


The Magic of the Miracle Mask

by huhu_lene_gz



Series: Professor Soot and Assistant Innit [5]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Professor Layton and the Miracle Mask, Puzzles, antfrost - Freeform, ponk - Freeform, punz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 11:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30088527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huhu_lene_gz/pseuds/huhu_lene_gz
Summary: Dear Wilbur Soot,I hope you are doing well. It has been a long time since we last met. Word of your achievements in the archaeological field has spread even here. I no longer live in L’manburg, but rather a new city that has sprung up in the middle of Foolish Desert – Monte d’Or.There is a problem plaguing Monte d’Or, and as one of the heads of the city, I cannot ignore the danger it presents. Think of it as the rebirth of the Mask of Chaos. A man wearing a similar mask runs rampant in the city, disturbing the peace with his so-called “dark miracles”.I’m sure I’ve piqued your curiosity. If you are still interested, I implore you to come down to Monte d’Or and request that you aid us in unravelling the mystery behind this strange happening. Do let me know if you will come.George N. Found
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Cara | CaptainPuffy & Wilbur Soot, Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Professor Soot and Assistant Innit [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158050
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer! NOTHING in this fic belongs to me. Not the plot, characters, puzzles. I wholeheartedly advise suspension of disbelief for this! Also, the characters who are not MCYT are from the actual game itself.
> 
> I've included the game's OST to accompany the fic in hyperlinks (words that are underlined) if you wanna listen to them!
> 
> Most of the answers for the puzzles will be revealed right after the puzzle has been written out so be careful! For puzzles involving pictures pls right-click the image to open it in a new tab!
> 
> Solutions for the are released at the very end of the fic (it'll take a while to get the fic up so anyone who sees only 1 chap for this pls wait for a couple of minutes thank you!)

[“Look,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yi5w8Q0RL9Y) Wilbur! A horse!”

Wilbur sighs.

“Horses are nothing special, Tommy Innit.”

Tommy puffs his cheeks out. “We don’t have them in Misthallery.”

A parade is currently underway, horses drawing carriages clopping at the front of the procession, followed by a massive clown balloon trailing along the ground, held up by a bunch of balloons. Trumpets blare and drums roll, the band clad smartly in their uniforms marching at the side.

Wilbur jolts when the child beside them begins to shriek in pure excitement. While cheer and festivities seem to be the inherent charm Monte d’Or, it _is_ getting rather annoying. As annoying as Tommy, he would say.

There appears to be no end to the procession, as clowns, acrobats and dancers emerge one after the other from around the corner. An entertainer is likely to be a lucrative job around here, he supposes. Wilbur glances around. Where in the world did his other assistant go? She was here just a while ago…

Wilbur is snapped from his thoughts when, suddenly, the music stops, robbing the city of sound. People gasp and scream. An infant begins to cry.

Spotlights cast their brilliant beams upon a figure prominent against the night sky, draped with a magnificent emerald cloak. A top hat perches upon his head and a cane makes its home in his hands. What is most striking about his appearance is that he wears a white mask rimmed in gold, the barest essence of a smile upon that diabolical design.

[“One,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KLmi9mhpkI) two, three, four…did you miss me, Monte d’Or?”

Wilbur narrows his eyes at the figure striding across the sky, seemingly walking on thin air. The neon lights are blinding, obscuring his view of the mysterious masked man as he steps onto another roof. The crowd is silent, a far cry from the chaos before.

“Tonight, I shall present one of my greater acts,” the masked man says, spreading his arms wide. “Sit back and enjoy. This dark miracle would be nothing like anyone’s ever seen before!”

As if on cue, the giant clown balloon explodes with a booming bang. A woman shrieks, and all pandemonium breaks loose. Tommy clings to Wilbur’s arm as Wilbur remains unmoving, even in the face of apparent danger.

The man laughs and leaps from the roof, cloak fluttering behind him as he swoops away into the night.

Wilbur is about to give chase when Tommy screeches, hopping away from where he stood. The reprimand dies on the tip of his tongue when he realizes just what elicited that reaction.

A man stands with his hand outstretched towards the sky, an expression of sheer terror on his face. His unhealthy grey pallor and stiffness has Wilbur freezing in place. What exists before him is no longer a man, but a stone statue that had previously been one.

Is this the dark miracle?

That man is not the only one who has been petrified. The statue of a woman leans against the fountain, clutching her purse tightly. A child holding a stick of cotton candy remains stationary, also claimed by the curse of stone.

[“Wilbur!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eonYQUQlXRc) Tommy!”

Wilbur turns at the clomp of horse’s hooves to find Puffy astride a steed, the horse whinnying as she pulls on its reins. She jerks her chin at several horses nearby, their reins tied to a wooden post.

“Come on!”

Wilbur wastes no time in freeing one of the horses – a fine, brown specimen - leaping atop its back. He digs his heels into the horse’s flank and the horse neighs, galloping off down the streets of Monte d’Or. He is deaf to Tommy’s yells of “Wait up!”

The masked man is flying, the green cloak flapping in the gale of the night. The horse sears past the side streets and alleyways, turning skilfully at sharp corners and leaping over carts of merchandise.

Almost there…almost…

“Watch out!”

A man yells as Wilbur barrels on past, ducking his head before he got embarrassingly whacked by the dangling sign of a shop. Looking up, he finds the masked man still within his field of vision.

That is, until he dives behind a giant building. White pillars support a majestic dome sparkling in the moonlight. It is at this town plaza that Wilbur loses track of the man. He yanks at the horse’s reins, the beast slowing to a trot, before stopping altogether. Behind him, Puffy rides up to him, with Tommy clinging to her waist.

“We lost him.”

[Defeat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-Wla5vlxQc) tastes bitter. Wilbur grips the slender reins, nails digging into the flesh of his palm. His quarry has vanished without a trace.

“We should head back to the parade street,” Puffy says.

The parade street. The length of road where they witnessed people turning to stone before their very eyes in the panic of the crowd. Wilbur frowns. Petrification is not possible, especially not with the snap of a finger or the tap of a cane.

“We shall,” Wilbur says with a heavy sigh. “Come on.”

They had not actually ventured far from the parade street. The trio return the horses to their companions, ensuring the reins are secured to the post before heading out to survey the damage.

The street is mostly deserted, save several police officers milling about, eerie stone statues littered around and the shredded remains of the giant clown balloon. Its explosion had been the cause of pandemonium, Wilbur thinks. He steps over a handbag and a pair of spectacles. He ignores a shattered arm upon the ground.

Wilbur scans the area. How did this happen? Clearly, the masked man had used the cover of mayhem to execute his dark miracle, but how? How did he do it? Why is Wilbur’s insight clouded? What is he not seeing?

“They’re really…they’re really stone…” Tommy pokes at the shoulder of a girl, the statue’s expression happy as can be.

Puffy swallows. “They really are.”

Wilbur lays a hand on the shoulder of an elderly man. Cold as ice.

“Excuse me, sir. I am going to have to ask you to step away from the evidence.”

An officer approaches them with his hands behind his back, cap ending just above his brows. A badge shines on his breast.

“Good evening, sir,” Wilbur says.

“Good evening to you too and welcome to the exciting city of Monte d’Or,” the officer says, nodding. “What you have just witnessed is one of the Masked Gentleman’s dark miracles and on that note, I would like to take your statements.”

Wilbur blinks. The officer was speaking so fast that he hardly caught half of what he said. “I doubt we can tell you any more than what the other guests have.”

The officer urges them to describe the scene then, anyway. About how the music had stopped abruptly, about how the masked man, the Masked Gentleman, apparently, appeared above their heads. How he strode from rooftop to rooftop and soared like a bird. About how the people beside them had, seemingly, turned to stone.

“Thank you very much and enjoy the rest of your time in Monte d’Or.”

The officer marches away, probably in search of another victim to harass.

“Where are we headed to now, Wilbur?” Tommy asks.

“To the Found estate.”

It has been a long time since Wilbur had last seen his friend, George N. Found. About five years, at the very least. He had left L’manburg to bury his past, but it had not been long before it returned to haunt him.

It was the fateful letter he just received earlier in the day that prompted him to arrive at this City of Miracles.


	2. The Masked Gentleman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> learning more and exploring monte d'or

[“Wilbur!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Chac6DhaYJE) You’ve got mail!”

It was strange to hear Puffy’s voice instead of Rosa’s uttering that phrase. Wilbur looked up from the paper he is writing and fixed her with a frown of irritation.

“Would it pain you to be a little quieter?”

Puffy ignored the complaint, kicking the door shut. Tommy jolts where he was seated, doing his homework. He shot a glare at her.

“Only one today,” Puffy said, squinting at the name of the sender on the envelope. “From a…George N. Found?”

Wilbur froze. He snatched the letter from her hands. Puffy lets out a surprised squeak. Wilbur rips the envelope open and scans its contents.

_Dear Wilbur Soot,_

_I hope you are doing well. It has been a long time since we last met. Word of your achievements in the archaeological field has spread even here. I no longer live in L_ _’_ _manburg, but rather a new city that has sprung up in the middle of Foolish Desert_ _–_ _Monte d_ _’_ _Or._

_There is a problem plaguing Monte d_ _’_ _Or, and as one of the heads of the city, I cannot ignore the danger it presents. Think of it as the rebirth of the Mask of Chaos. A man wearing a similar mask runs rampant in the city, disturbing the peace with his so-called_ _“_ _dark miracles_ _”_ _._

_I_ _’_ _m sure I_ _’_ _ve piqued your curiosity. If you are still interested, I implore you to come down to Monte d_ _’_ _Or and request that you aid us in unravelling the mystery behind this strange happening. Do let me know if you will come._

_George N. Found_

Wilbur crumpled the letter in his hand. After all these years…Can the Mask of Chaos not leave him be? Why must it torment him so?

“Pack your bags,” Wilbur said, scrolling through the contacts on his phone. He must have George’s number saved somewhere. “We are leaving in half an hour.”

“Leave? Where are we going?” Puffy asked.

“You demand a lot, big man,” Tommy grumbled. He shut his textbook and left his worksheets spread out over the table in a haphazard mess, peeling himself off the ground to grab his backpack.

“To Monte d’Or,” Wilbur said. He sent a message to George and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “An old friend needs my help.”

*

[Despite](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yi5w8Q0RL9Y&) the city’s penchant for flashy facilities and sparkling glamour, there exists alleyways dark and damp, tiny shops flanking the walkway. This place is so different, hard to imagine that his friend would move from the sleepy town of L’manburg to this…this bustling city filled with life and flair.

George sent him a map just earlier today, which Wilbur does not take his eyes off. Follow the path down this street, then turn left at the intersection…

Wilbur halts the moment he bumps into someone. Someone short, wearing a hat, and a coat, and crying as she picks herself up. The girl sobs, rubbing at her eyes shadowed by her cap.

“I apologize, miss, but I must be-”

“Hello, girlie!”

Puffy shoves Wilbur aside – Wilbur scrunches his nose up at the audacity of it – and approaches the girl, kneeling beside her.

“Why are you crying?” Puffy asks. “Did you drop your ice cream?”

The girl shakes her head, her blathering hardly intelligible. “I lost…I lost my mother!”

Wilbur quashes the rising frustration brewing in his chest.

Puffy nods understandingly. “We can help you find your mother.” She lifts her head and eyes Wilbur and Tommy with a rather threatening gaze. “Isn’t that right?”

Wilbur sighs. “I suppose.”

As it turns out, the girl got separated from her mother somewhere in the plaza ahead. She grabs Puffy’s hand and drags her down the street, where a crowd is milling about the line of food stalls selling delicious treats, from hotdogs to buttered corn cobs to croquettes.

Finding the girl’s mother in this wave of humans is, frankly, going to be a taxing hassle.

[ ** <Puzzle: Where ** ** ’ ** ** s Mum?> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g)

“What does your mother look like?” Puffy asks.

“My mother has red hair, and…and… a pink handbag with a bear on it!”

Wilbur glances around. There are quite a few people seem to fit the criteria. Edging closer, he can barely make out what they are saying.

“Look how stylish everyone is today!” A gushes.

B gasps. “Hold on. This handbag isn’t mine.”

“Hey! I’m actually a man!” C huffs.

“My handbag is a blue one,” D says.

“Hmm, this isn’t my bag. It’s got the wrong pattern,” E says.

Which woman is the girl’s mother?

Woman with blue bag…star-shaped design…pink handbag…wrong pattern…

Wilbur makes his decision quickly, jostling through the crowd with Puffy and Tommy following him. He approaches the woman currently speaking with an officer.

[“Excuse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yi5w8Q0RL9Y&) me, ma’am?”

The woman glances over, arms folded, only to be accosted by the little girl who clings to her legs, blubbering tearfully. The woman thanks them and chides her child for running off on her own.

“I suppose that that is your child, madam?” the officer says, tipping his hat. “Always a pleasure to serve.”

It is not like he did anything of note. Wilbur bows and decides to take his leave. As long as they managed to get the child off their hands. Now that they have been thrown severely off-track, it is time to regain their sense of orientation and continue searching for the Found estate.

“Doesn’t it feel good when you help someone, Wilbur?” Puffy says, hands behind her head.

Wilbur shrugs.

The Found residence comes into view after another sharp turn, pools of lights from elaborate streetlamps illuminating the road leading up to a mansion. The mansion sitting in the middle of a garden surrounded by a tall wall of stone. A large metal gate stands in their way, a lock and chain keeping the door shut.

“Are you sure Mr Found knows that we’re coming?” Tommy asks. “Seems to me that he’s a really absentminded man.”

“If you would take the time to observe,” Wilbur says, grasping the lock, “you would notice that George means to test us. This is a puzzle lock, after all.”

[ ** <Puzzle: Ancient Arti-Facts> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g)

A, B, C and D each found a unique object at different depths in some ruins. Based on the following statements, deduce who found what, at what depth, and what material each object is made of.

  1. The doll is made of wood.
  2. B dug 100cm deeper than D and found something at 150cm deep.
  3. An item made of blue-tinged metal was found deeper than the wooden one.
  4. The pot is made of sandy clay.
  5. The coin was found in a shallower place than the sword.



It is given that A found an object at 200cm, B found a doll, and D found something made of stone.

This is a classic Einstein’s riddle. If the doll is made out of wood, then it must be found at a shallower spot than the metal one…and…

[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSbheIypPtk) keys the answer in and with a few incessant beeps, the lock clicks open. Wilbur pushes at the gate, rusted with age, and the trio enters the Found estate. They pass a pond, calm surface covered with lilies and lily pads, a small fountain to its side. Their path is flanked with trimmed bushes, red roses prominent against the viridian.

The path ends at the base of a flight of stone stairs, taking them up to the front door. Wilbur rings the doorbell, summoning plodding footsteps that can be heard from within. The door swings open, and they are greeted by a man whose face Wilbur remembers all too well.

“Wilbur,” the man says. He wears a blue shirt with a pair of brown trousers, a pair of white glasses hanging from his collar alongside a pendant. Wilbur remembers that pendant. A coin of the Azrans. “It’s…nice to see you again.”

He holds a hand out to him, and Wilbur shakes it. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

George gestures stiffly at the house’s interior, at a sitting area by a large window.

“Please come on in.”

The carpet is soft, wool sinking beneath their feet as they make their way past the main hall, towards a set of lavish couches accessorized with cushions and embroidered cloth. The entire place screams “wealth”, from the beautiful acrylic art on the walls to the displays of jewelled artefacts mounted on pedestals in corners. Tommy peers, with sparkling eyes, at a golden crown, embedded with diamonds and sapphires.

“Is Sapnap around?” Wilbur asks. He sits upon George’s invitation, Puffy and Tommy joining him. George calls for a maid, who emerges from the kitchen with a tray balanced precariously in hand. The china cups clink against the wooden table. Hot tea flows from the pot, the aroma of Earl Grey filling the room.

“No, he’s not,” George replies. “Sapnap runs the city so he’s a little…busy. Very busy, actually.”

Tommy slurps loudly. Puffy glares at him.

“I nearly forgot to introduce you,” Wilbur says, gesturing to Tommy and Puffy. “This is Tommy, and this is Puffy. They’re my assistants.”

Tommy eyes George suspiciously, hiding his face behind the cup lifted to his lips. Puffy waves politely. George smiles and greets them in turn, before turning back to Wilbur.

“I…Thanks for coming all the way to Monte d’Or, by the way,” George says. “And so fast, too.”

“We both know why I’m here, George,” Wilbur says.

George straightens his shoulders. “Yeah, well…I’m sure you saw the Masked Gentleman.”

Wilbur nods. “I did. He performed one of his famed dark miracles.”

George sighs. “I heard. And you saw what he was wearing.”

The Mask of Chaos. How can Wilbur forget? That ominous smile etched upon the slab of gold. The Mask of Chaos is a harbinger of destruction and death, and nothing more. Still, how had that resurfaced after so many years?

“I need your help, Wilbur,” George says. “At this rate, the Masked Gentleman will…will destroy Monte d’Or.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Catch him,” George says. “Find out his identity, or something. I don’t know. Just…stop him from doing any more of those dark miracles.”

Wilbur sips on his cup of tea. The dense sweetness of the beverage is certainly uplifting. He places the cup back on its saucer, humming.

[“I will](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4csOxfVlKNo&) do what I can,” Wilbur says. “But first, I would like to ask about his recent string of dark miracles.”

“I thought you’d might,” George says. “There was a miracle two days ago which took place at the art gallery. You know Gallery Plaza? That big white building in the centre of it?

George must be referring to that large area they had chased the Masked Gentleman to.

“What about it?”

“Yesterday, there were many paintings that came alive,” George says.

“Came alive?” Tommy cuts in.

“From the witnesses’ reports, people in the paintings apparently leapt out of their frames,” George says. “They started causing havoc in the museum, and we had to shut it down.”

“And those people?” Wilbur asks.

“Gone. Without a trace,” George says. “They never returned to the paintings.”

They should speak to museum staff about this. “What else had the Masked Gentleman done?”

“Well, there was also the incident of turning people into horses. It was the very first miracle,” George says. “It was something similar to what happened tonight. Instead of being turned to stone, people had turned into horses instead.”

“They need not necessarily be people,” Puffy says.

“No, they don’t. But the thing is, we found many personal effects on the ground after the event. Purses, necklaces, backpacks, water bottles…” George shakes his head. “All unclaimed. Besides, there were horses wearing scarves and hats too.”

Suspicious, but Wilbur does not press the issue. “I see. Is there anything else?”

“Well, there was one more,” George says. “It was the most dangerous one by far.”

Wilbur sips at his tea.

“It was at noon just yesterday,” George says. “There was a dome in the middle of the town plaza. No one knows how it got there, or where it came from, but when the curtains were removed, there were people standing in it.”

“Curtains?” Wilbur asks.

“The dome was draped with curtains, or some kind of fancy cloth,” George says. “Then, at noon, the cloth fell and revealed the participants in that day’s dark miracle.”

“What did they do?” Tommy asks.

“They…” George bites his lip. “They burned.”

“Burned?”

“There was a flash of fire, and then, everyone in the dome was reduced to nothing but ashes.”

Puffy gasps.

“That’s not a dark miracle,” Wilbur mutters. “That was a public execution.”

“The miracle doesn’t end there,” George says. “Thanks to some eyewitness accounts, we managed to identify some of the participants trapped in that dome. But when we went to investigate those people’s families, we found them still at home, with no memory of the incident.”

“That’s…strange.”

[“It is](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSbheIypPtk), and at this point, we are willing to accept any and all help we can get,” George says.

“And the man behind all these miracles is the one with the Mask of Chaos.”

George nods. “I’m sorry for…for what I said to you back then, but you know Dream…”

Dream. Wilbur never did think he would hear that name after so long…It is almost as if their red strings of fate would never truly fade. If only Wilbur had not been so careless, so exceptionally _stupid_ , then Dream would still probably be…alive.

“You had a right to be mad,” Wilbur says. “I don’t resent you for that, George.”

George flashes Wilbur a smile. A more genuine one. It is as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “Now, as much as I’d like you to get to the bottom of this case, it’s getting really late.”

Wilbur exchanges glances with Puffy. “And we’ve yet to book our accommodations.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve arranged for a suite at the hotel for you,” George says. “It’s at the Dromedary, at the centre of town. Take a left from the museum and you will find it.”

Wilbur rises. “Thank you. It was very considerate of you, George.”

George beams. He sees them out the house, expressing his heartfelt gratitude once more for agreeing to investigate this string of peculiar miracles. Bidding George a quick goodbye, Wilbur descends the stairs with utmost urgency.

“Are we going to the hotel now, big man?” Tommy asks.

“There is still much to investigate. Let us first return to the parade street.”

*

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yi5w8Q0RL9Y&) parade street is still lively, most of the statues cleared away. A few officers stand around, but do not appear to be doing anything useful. Wilbur approaches the one closest to them, an unimpressive fellow with gangly limbs.

“Good evening, sir,” Wilbur says. The officer salutes him.

“Professor Soot, correct?” the officer says. “Mr Found has informed us of your arrival and presence in town and we are to treat you with the utmost respect!” He pauses thoughtfully. “I don’t think I was supposed to say that.”

Wilbur blinks. People confuse him sometimes. “I would like to know if there is anywhere that sells fanciful costumes in town. The largest store you know, perhaps?”

“Are you planning on going to some fancy dress party?” Tommy mutters. Wilbur ignores him.

“I would love to help,” the officer says, sounding despondent. That was a rather quick change in attitude. “However, there has been a puzzle on my mind for a while now, and until it is resolved…”

He peers up at Wilbur hopefully. Wilbur nods. He always has time for a good puzzle. Emphasis on “good”.

[ ** <Puzzle: Wandering Watches> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g)

“So, there are four people comparing their watches. They realize that none of them have the correct time.

A says, “My watch is always twenty minutes slow!”

B says, “This old thing is ten minutes slow!”

C says, “I set mine five minutes fast.”

D says, “Mine is ten minutes fast.”

Given that their watches show the times: 1:15, 1:35, 1:05 and 1:30, although we do not know whose watch shows which time, what time is it currently?”

“That’s an easy one. 1:25,” Wilbur says. It is a matter of simple calculation. The officer nods dumbly and thanks him, impressed at Wilbur’s prowess.

[“Well,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yi5w8Q0RL9Y&) there _is_ Madam Lapushka’s,” the officer says, gesturing towards a wide street flanked with shops of all sizes and colours. “She sells masks and costumes. The best you can find in Monte d’Or.”

“Excellent. Thank you, officer.”

“No problem, sir. Just doing my job.”

Wilbur bows and leaves him be, following his direction and heading onward towards this Madam Lapushka’s. Puffy and Tommy trail behind him, marvelling at the pretty sights and pixie lights. Wilbur, personally, is hardly interested in something so shallow and frivolous. Still, it costs him nothing to let Puffy and Tommy have some fun.

Madam Lapushka’s shop has got to be the flashiest, the most outrageously-designed on the street, and that is saying something. Her name is written out in big, neon colours, all manner of costumes draped on mannequins placed in front of the door, scarves, hats and unique knickknacks displayed proudly on racks.

A golden mask bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Mask of Chaos irks Wilbur. Is this shop profiting off of the dark miracles? They must regard the whole phenomenon as a tourist stunt.

“Look at me, Wilbur.”

Wilbur spares Tommy a glance to find the boy decked out in the most garish and uncoordinated outfit he has ever had the misfortune of laying his eyes upon. Tommy wears a lime green fedora, accompanied by a lacy butterfly mask, the sequined scarf covering half his face. Puffy is in the midst of throwing a scarlet cape across his shoulders.

The boy is an actual monster.

Tommy cackles. Wilbur drags a hand across his face.

“Please put those back before we get into trouble.”

Just as those words leave his mouth, the door opens with a jingle. A woman appears at the entrance, her hands on her hips. Wilbur braces himself for the second-hand embarrassment, an apology on the tip of his tongue.

To his surprise, the woman merely chuckles. “Oh, aren’t you a dear? You look mighty chivalrous in that!”

“Yeah, I’m the Masked Gentleman,” Tommy beams, scratching at the mask. Wilbur cannot imagine how itchy it must be under that whole getup.

“Of course you are,” the woman, presumably Madam Lapushka, says with a wide smile. “Come on in. I have more outfits you might like.”

Tommy removes the offensive garb and Puffy returns the items to the racks. Meanwhile, Wilbur and Tommy step into the shop, now presented with new wonders. The store is truly as gaudy on the inside as it is on the outside; sparkly cloaks, shimmering hats and glittering tuxedos and dresses blind them. What really catches Wilbur’s attention is the wall of masks on display at the far end of the store, by the fitting room.

“Please, take as long as you like,” Madam Lapushka says, gesturing at her array of wares. “Or, if you want, I can dress you handsome gentlemen. Oh, and you too, gorgeous.”

“Thank you for the invitation, but I would have to respectfully decline,” Wilbur says. “You see, we are-”

“Wilbur. Look at me.”

Wilbur has learned his lesson. He keeps his eyes firmly on Madam Lapushka, attempting to push against Tommy’s head, only to rest his palm against the brim of a hat. Madam Lapushka, on the other end, giggles, calling Tommy a lovely boy when, really, he is nothing more than a devil.

“I would like to ask you some questions, Madam,” Wilbur says, “if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Madam Lapushka says, adjusting the boa coiled around Tommy’s neck. “Although, I do have a puzzle on my hands right now, and if you would be a dear…”

Wilbur nods. “Let’s hear it.”

[ ** <Puzzle: Days of Rest> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g)

“There are seven shopkeepers, A to G, who must choose one day to close their shops. Only one shop may close per day. Five of the shopkeepers, B, D, E, F and G have already chosen which days they are free, denoting those days with a circle on the spreadsheet as shown.

[ ](https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle:Days_of_Rest?file=MM068.png)

“When asked, A says, ‘I’ll close on whichever day as long as it’s not Sunday.’ C says, ‘I’ll just close on the day before A.’

Which days do each of the shopkeepers close?”

Wilbur presses his lips together. If they consider the only possibility whereby both A and C’s conditions may be fulfilled, then they can arrange it such that…He has got it.

[Madam](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yi5w8Q0RL9Y&) Lapushka seems satisfied with the answer. “Well now, I can get behind that. What would you like to know, hmm?”

“About the Masked Gentleman,” Wilbur says. “Have you sold an outfit similar to his?”

“Well now,” Madam Lapushka looks more amused than offended. “That cloak of his is too dull for my tastes, but I have to say, it’s one of a kind. Almost like that one guy who sells medieval stuff…And that mask? I do pride myself on the fantastic designs of the ones I sell, but I’ve never seen anything quite like his.”

That is because they would never find that mask anywhere else, Wilbur thinks bitterly. That mask was supposed to be gone. Gone five years ago with a man whose passion led to his demise.

“I see. Is there any other boutique where he could have bought those garments?”

Madam Lapushka hums, shaking her head. “I don’t know of anywhere that even sells those kinds of goods. I’d love to get my hands on that silky material…even if it’s just for a split second…”

“Thank you very much for your assistance,” Wilbur says quickly, noticing the dreamy expression on Madam Lapushka’s face. “I suppose we should be on our way.”

Madam Lapushka sends them off with three complimentary masks, their designs so tacky that all they are good for is a masquerade party. It does not bother Puffy and Tommy, though; they seem delighted with their new playthings.

Perhaps it is time to retire for the night. The day has been hectic, what with that dark miracle and that chase on horseback and the events that succeed it. While his two companions appear to be in high spirits, Wilbur is more than willing to get some sleep.

The Dromedary is, as George mentioned, at the heart of the city, a stone’s throw from the art museum. The hotel is longer than it is tall, featuring rooms with good views of the city. A giant neon sign in the shape of a camel points to the hotel from across the courtyard. A porter stands at the entrance in the smartest of suits.

[“Welcome](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSbheIypPtk&) to the Dromedary, Professor Soot and companions.” The porter bows. “Please, step this way.”

The hotel’s lobby is spacious. Water trickles from a fountain in the corner. A series of laughter resounds from the lounge just behind a set of wooden doors. A giant chandelier hangs from above, golden and swaying ever so slightly.

Wilbur receives their room cards from the woman at the counter, and they proceed to the elevators.

“Hey, Wilbur.”

“What is it?”

The elevator chugs along at a frighteningly fast pace.

“You know how you were talking to George about the Mask of Chaos or something? What was that all about?” Puffy asks.

“It was…an ancient artefact,” Wilbur says. The elevator dings and the door opens into a wide corridor that branches to the left and the right. No doubt these are the VIP suites. Wilbur wonders for a moment whether Sapnap owns this hotel, being one of the richest men in the city. “It should have been lost with my friend, but it…” He trails off, unable to continue.

“It turned up in the Found estate.”

“Indeed.”

“I don’t get what the fuss is over this mask business, Wilbur,” Tommy says. They reach their rooms, located just opposite of each other’s. “Mind filling us in, big man?”

“Yeah! It could help us figure out how this guy got a hold of the mask, and all this dark miracle stuff.”

Wilbur bites his lip, considering his options. He does not particularly want to revisit that point in his life, not when it holds nothing but terrible memories. It was as if a thundercloud remained over his head for the months accompanying that incident.

However, it could not have hurt him as much as it did George or Sapnap.

What does he have to lose? Tommy and Puffy are clearly interested, and Puffy has a point. Whatever happened in the past could lend a clue. Help them figure something out that they would not have otherwise.

“I…suppose,” Wilbur says finally, with a drawn-out sigh. “We have time, after all.”

Tommy does a silent cheer, pumping a fist in the air and almost knocking Puffy’s mask off her face. Puffy enthusiastically pushes the door open to Wilbur and Tommy’s room. Wilbur folds his arms. Children, the both of them.

The room is glamorous as it is comfortable. The lights on the ceiling furnish the room with a soft glow, affording them a splendid view of the city of Monte d’Or, from the lasers in the sky to the spinning sign of casino chips of Chance Avenue to the expansive amusement park, a peculiar tower standing in its middle.

Wilbur makes himself comfortable on the armchair, gazing out at the wonderful sight as Puffy makes them tea. Tommy has decided to burrow into the covers of the bed right by the balcony, eyes following the lasers lazily.

The kettle begins to boil, and Puffy returns to sit on Wilbur’s bed.

“You look like an old man,” she says, and Wilbur scoffs. He does not particularly care what he looks like. Not now, at least.

He cannot quite keep the exhaustion from his tone. The exhaustion, the grief, the longing to return to what it was before. With Tommy and Puffy’s eyes trained on him, sitting with rapt attention, Wilbur begins his tale. His tale of tragedy, of loss, that the Mask of Chaos has wrought upon him and his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzle(s) in this Chapter:  
> Where's Mum?   
> Ancient Arti-Facts  
> Wandering Watches  
> Days of Rest


	3. The Secret of Norwell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a tale of five years past

[Clinks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GMzKMGWoPc) resonate in the air. The smash of blades as they meet, the jabs and stabs of the fencers as they dodge and sidestep deftly is a sight to behold. One moment they are at loggerheads, and the next, the superior fencer has the other on the ground, utterly beaten.

No one speaks for the longest time. The only sounds the pants of the duo as they catch their breath, neither daring to move. After what seems like eternity, the victorious fencer lowers his foil and removes his mask, revealing a handsome face framed with blonde. He reaches over to help the other fencer up.

Wilbur removes his helmet as well, tucking it under his arm as he takes a deep breath.

“You almost got me there. Not bad, I’d have to say.” Dream grins that cheeky grin of his. “But you gotta try harder. Can’t have me beating you in both archaeology and fencing.”

“I don’t even _like_ archaeology, Dream.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because you haven’t seen its charm,” Dream says, humming as they return their equipment to the closets. It is nearly three in the afternoon. Time to head home, or else Wilbur’s mother would panic. She _is_ somewhat of a worrywart.

“I don’t think there’s much of a charm _to_ see,” Wilbur says. Dream’s goals in life seem lofty in stark contrast to Wilbur’s. Wilbur merely wishes to find a job in one of the local shops selling jam or whatnot and to live a peaceful life. Dream, on the other hand, has big plans for his future, including getting a degree in archaeology and going on digs to unearth the world’s most precious relics.

Wilbur cannot quite see the appeal of covering oneself in dirt all day long only to be rewarded with an object also covered in dirt.

Just as the duo walk out of the school compound, Dream spots someone they know, a boy with his nose in a book. Before Wilbur can react, Dream is already running up to the boy, the patter of his footsteps deafening. The boy barely has time to turn around when Dream launches himself at him, nearly sending the both of them tumbling to the ground.

“G-Get off me, Dream!”

“Love you too, George.”

Wilbur sighs, glancing away. He really does not want to play third wheel to the couple, as he had every time they are together. Perhaps he should just head on home and spare himself the embarrassment.

“Oh, right! Wilbur!”

Wilbur looks up with the most uninterested expression. Dream’s eyes are literally sparkling, an arm around George’s shoulders.

“What is it?”

“I’ve got something to tell you and George, so come over to my house tonight, yeah?”

“If this is about your archaeology again…”

“Trust me! It’s going to be the greatest find of the century!” Dream waves his other free arm about. “My name is going to go down in history books, Wilbur!”

Wilbur sincerely doubts it, but he knows better than to rain on Dream’s parade.

“Archaeology? Why do you keep going on about those useless pots in the ground?”

The one who speaks is not from their little trio, but rather, a boy called Punz, dressed in that familiar white hoodie and that golden necklace gleaming in the sunlight. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he sidles up to them, a smirk on his face.

“What’s up?” Dream asks pleasantly, though the tic in his jaw belies his impatience with this boy.

“What’s so good about archaeology? It won’t earn you money, Dream,” Punz says, fingers trailing over the rim of his necklace. “You should aim for the big bucks, like owning a thousand hotels.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Dream says, puffing his chest out. “You can own your hotels, Punz. Tell me how that goes.”

Punz harrumphs. “It’s going to go amazing, Dream. Just you watch and see.”

Punz ambles away, kicking at a pebble on the ground as he returns to his posse of lackeys in the school grounds. Wilbur has never quite liked that group.

“Why’s Punz always like that?” George wonders. “Let people like what they like.”

“I know, right?” Dream says, sighing. His disappointment does not last, because he decides right there and then to regale Wilbur and George with the tale of the Azrans, an ancient civilization with the intellect and technology beyond all comprehension. Rumours of their forgotten settlements float amongst the experts, among the academic forums that Dream frequently visits.

“Let me guess,” George says, holding up a hand, “whatever you want to tell us tonight has something to do with this Azran.”

A train trundles past, chugging at full speed past the road. Wilbur watches the blur of colours rush by, like a palette, a splash of art. Perhaps he should become an artist.

“Well, yeah,” Dream says, smiling like an idiot. “Think about it! If we can find one of these settlements, we’d be famous. Absolutely famous!”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Wilbur says, shaking his head. The gate lifts above their heads and they cross the tracks. His home is just right up ahead, amongst a cluster of houses to the south of the market. “If even the greatest archaeologists can’t find them, what makes you think we can?”

“Oh come on, Wilbur,” Dream whines. “Don’t be such a spoilsport.”

“He’s got a point, though.” George hums.

“Well, I’ve got one thing they don’t have,” Dream says, eyes sparkling. “I’ve got loads of free time.”

Wilbur laughs at that. Of course they do. They are merely high schoolers after all.

Wilbur waves goodbye to the couple at the crossroads, walking right up to his house and pushing the door open. Unfortunately, he nearly smacks someone in the face, the someone who happens to be his mother.

“Are you alright, mum?”

His mother blinks, somewhat jolted from her hysterics. She grasps his hands, pulling him into the house. Wilbur barely has time to kick the door shut behind him before she drags him over to the table and sits him down.

“Have some bread and jam, dear,” Mrs Soot says, setting before him a plate of bread slathered with jam. He always liked his mother’s homemade jams. Sweet and fruity. Not to mention that the texture is just right, not too gooey and not too watery. “I’m in a bit of a pickle, Will. A bit of a puzzle pickle.”

Puzzles. Wilbur hates puzzles. Dream is the puzzle guru around here, always trying to get him and George into those godforsaken puzzles of his.

Then again, this is his mother. The least he can do is to help, no matter how useless he may be.

“What is it?”

[ ** <Puzzle: That's Juicy> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g&)

“It was a puzzle your father left me, you see,” his mother says. “The owner of a juice factory wanted to send a gift to three important customers. To make sure no one was offended, they were all given eighteen litres of juice, but there weren’t enough of each bottle size to make the shipments identical. Still, the owner was able to make up three shipments of eighteen litres using different sets of small, medium and large bottles.

“Customer A received 1 big bottle, 3 medium bottles and 3 small ones. Customer B received 2 big bottles and 6 small bottles. Customer C received 4 medium bottles and 6 small bottles.”

“And what we want to work out is how many litres each bottle holds, right?”

“Yes, and they’re all whole numbers.”

It is just simple calculation. And algebra. Wilbur has the answer quickly – not as quickly as Dream would have, perhaps – and relays it to his mother. The big bottle holds 6 litres, the medium holds 3 litres and the small holds 1 litre.

[“Thank](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GMzKMGWoPc) you so much for your help, Will,” his mother smiles, patting him on the shoulder. Wilbur nods, dipping his head to nibble on his jam sandwich. “Speaking of him, have you seen your father?”

“Dad?” Wilbur swallows the bread with much effort. He would have noticed his father if he saw him. The streets are rather empty at this time. “No, I don’t think so. Is he missing?”

“He is.” His mother wrings her hands, staring at the tablecloth with a troubled frown.

“I could go look for him.” Wilbur rises, sandwich in hand. “I’ve done all my homework already.”

His mother’s eyes light up. “Do be careful out there! Now, I will get to preparing dinner before your return.”

Wilbur leaves the house again, having left his backpack at the table. He munches on the bread, wondering where his father could have gone. To the marketplace, perhaps? It is strange, though, because his father would not usually leave the house without first informing his mother.

Wilbur can hear the bustle of the market long before he even sees the stalls. L’manburg is big on their fresh produce, the market still busy even in when the sun is about to sink beneath the hills. Out of the corner of his eye, Wilbur catches sight of a white shirt, a bandana keeping his unruly curls in check.

“Sapnap!”

Wilbur holds up a hand in greeting. Sapnap approaches him with several paper bags in his arms.

“Hey, Master Soot.”

Wilbur frowns. “I told you not to call me ‘Master’.”

Sapnap shrugs.

“By the way, did you see my father?” Wilbur asks. Some things will just not change.

“I saw him heading on over to the Norwell Wall with a few friends,” Sapnap says. “Has Master Dream returned home?”

“A while ago, yes.”

“I see,” Sapnap says with a sigh. “It’s just…it’s not that I’m mad at Dream or anything, but lately his father’s been really getting on his case.”

Wilbur can imagine. Dream’s father is a successful businessman, owning a chain of hotels that rival that of Punz’s mother’s. Those two families have been squabbling for ages, much to Dream’s chagrin. The boy never expressed an interest in taking over his father’s business, only driven to pursue his passion in archaeology.

“As long as he’s not openly defying his father, I don’t think…”

“Yeah, I think I’m just a little _too_ worried,” Sapnap says, sighing. “Anyway, he’s invited you and George to the house later, right?”

Wilbur nods.

“I’ll be seeing you, then,” Sapnap says. He hurries along back down the path where Wilbur came, making for Dream’s house. Wilbur focuses his attention on his task at hand – to look for his father, who seems to have gone down to the Norwell Wall.

The Norwell Wall is an enigma, even to the citizens of L’manburg. It lies at the edge of town, accessible via a winding route through a forest and over a narrow creek. Dream liked to go to the Norwell Wall, muttering to himself as he inspected the engravings upon the stone. Wilbur and George accompanied him when asked, though they ended up splashing about in the creek or poring over the new book in stock when they got bored. Sometimes, Dream can spend an entire day just staring at the wall. At this point, Wilbur is beginning to suspect that he can actually read those alien words.

When Wilbur reaches the picket fence, he notices a familiar face walking back, closing the creaky gate behind him.

“Dad.”

“Oh, Will. I didn’t expect to see you here.” His father regards him with a curious expression.

“Mum sent me to find you,” Wilbur says. “She wondered where you’d gone.”

His father chortles heartily. “I was just showing some friends the Norwell Wall. They’re from London. You know. The city.”

That is where Dream wants to go to college. Partly the reason Wilbur fears the end of the school year, because then he, Dream, George and Sapnap would be separated for a while. A very long while.

“Well, come on, son,” his father says. “Your mother must be waiting.”

The trip back home is uneventful, father and son strolling down the cobblestone path that leads them back to the quiet residential district. The aroma of roasted chicken and shepherd’s pie greets them as soon as they enter the house. His father hangs his hat and coat by the door, settling down at the table where the dishes and cutlery are already prepared.

The family of three are silent for a minute’s prayer before digging in. The dinner is lively as per usual, his parents asking about his day in school, about his friends Dream and George…It is then that Wilbur remembers his rendezvous with them at the former’s residence.

“You’re meeting that Dream boy? Well, don’t stay out too late, you hear?” his father says.

Wilbur makes a noise of acknowledgement and rises from his seat. He rushes to the kitchen, dumping his plate and cutlery in the sink before grabbing his bag and heading out.

The moon is already upon them, after all.

*

[“Wilbur!”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtW80AsHEMU)

Wilbur turns at the sound of his name, noticing George jogging up to him.

“Fancy meeting you here. I thought you’d be with Dream,” Wilbur says teasingly.

“I had homework,” George says with a frown. “Dream wouldn’t have let me study.”

Yeah, Wilbur wonders what they would do. The walk is pleasant, the cool evening breeze caressing their faces as they made their way over to Dream’s house, the only mansion standing atop a hill, cream walls standing out against the dark. To Wilbur, it resembles a castle. As can be expected from the richest man in town.

Now, here comes the real question: how are they going to get in? While Dream’s father does not hire guards or patrolmen, they cannot simply barge through the front door either. The last time Wilbur visited Dream, the altercation with his father had been…brutal. Wilbur would never want to see the man again in his life if he can help it.

“We could always just go straight up to his room like last time,” George suggests.

Wilbur edges the metal gate open, releasing a shaky breath when it swings silently, permitting them passage into Dream’s estate. He and George slink about in the shadows like racoons, keeping their backs to the walls and ducking under windows. The darkening of silhouettes in the translucent glass sends shivers down Wilbur’s spine.

After what feels like forever, the duo reaches the wall below Dream’s window. There appears to be a piece of paper and a pen dangling from a rope hanging from the sill.

“Solve this puzzle or I won’t let you up.” George squints at it. “What the hell?”

Wilbur slaps his forehead. Only Dream would do this. Only he.

[ ** <Puzzle: Nine Red Bricks> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g&)

Out of a row of nine identical-looking bricks, there are two adjacent bricks in the queue that are heavier than the rest, but you cannot remember which ones they are. The only way to identify them is to lift them one by one, but to save them, you are going to go about it in the most efficient way possible.

What is the minimum number of bricks you need to lift to find the two heavy ones?

“Math? Now?” George sighs, pondering the question for a while, before spouting the answer, “It’s four.”

[George](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtW80AsHEMU&) would not be able to last a second with Dream if he does not hone his prowess in puzzle-solving, so Wilbur is inclined to trust him. Wilbur pens the number and tugs on the rope. The rope is pulled back into the window, and within seconds, a ladder is dropped from the sill, uncoiling as it descends.

George hauls himself up first, and Wilbur second. Before long, they wriggle through the window, tumbling onto a lime carpet, a giant smiley face staring up at them.

Wilbur does not remember Dream’s room much, seeing as the last time he came was a couple of months back. It is extremely messy, from the open archaeology books lying about on the ground, stationery strewn about on his desk, and several replicas of relics and models displayed on pedestals (knowing Dream, though, they may not be replicas).

Dream pulls the rope ladder back up and dumps the tangled length in a drawer, not bothering to even close it.

“So, what is this big…discovery you called us here for?” George asks.

“Check this out.” Dream strides over to the wall beside his bookshelf, most of the wood covered in sheets of white fabric. In one swift move, he rips the cloth from where it is pinned to the wall. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see.

Scrawled all over the walls, in bright red ink, are words and numbers and alien inscriptions resembling hieroglyphs. Several newspaper clippings nailed to the walls are annotated in all sorts of colours, mainly green and red.

“Cool, huh?” Dream says, gesturing to the walls.

“Where did you find the time to do all this?” George shakes his head. Dream pouts.

“Look, I’d rather do _this_ than to do math, alright?” Dream says, sighing. “Come on, George, I thought you knew me better than that.”

George flounders for a comeback.

Wilbur interrupts, “What does this all mean, Dream? You’re the archaeology expert here. Please educate the laymen.”

“You don’t actually have to understand all this,” Dream says, padding over to his desk and retrieving something from the drawer. It is an ornamental box, its rim intricately designed and embroidered with golden flowers. Dream undoes a clasp, flipping the lid open and revealing its contents nestled in violet silk.

[With](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZ-8NT_fpUk) utmost care, Dream holds up the relic – a mask, it appears. The mask shines pearly white, a diabolical smile etched onto its surface. Its edges are lined with gold, and even more of those ancient symbols.

“Is that the real thing?” George asks, scrutinizing it.

“Of course,” Dream says. “Do you think so little of me, George?”

“Let me get this straight,” Wilbur says, dragging a hand across his face. “You went off to some excavation site and dug it up.”

“Well, yeah,” Dream says, holding the mask over his face. Its dimensions suit his mug rather well, Wilbur thinks. “What did you take me for? I’m a budding archaeologist, Wilbur.”

Wilbur folds his arms. “And you didn’t tell your father.”

“Well, no,” Dream says, voice muffled by the mask. “Do you really think I would?”

Wilbur and George exchange glances.

“You going to sell that or something?” George asks.

Dream gives him an incredulous look. “Are you crazy, George? This is an ancient artefact! Okay, so its real value lies in the fact that it is connected to the Azran civilization.” He holds the mask out, tracing a finger along the symbols carved into it. “See these?”

George and Wilbur lean in to get a closer look.

“These is the language of the Azrans,” Dream says. “But the thing about these symbols is that they complete the puzzle of the Norwell Wall.”

“They what now?” George raises a brow.

“The Norwell Wall,” Dream says. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, right? You guys can come with me and I’ll show you what it’s all about.”

There is no reason for them to decline. For all Dream’s enthusiasm is worth, his diligence and intellect may not bring about a satisfying conclusion to this ancient puzzle of his. They may not find anything at all. It could just be a complete coincidence that the Norwell Wall was created by the Azrans as well.

Just then, the knob jiggles, and the door swings open. A spike of fear arrows through Wilbur as he swivels on his heels, praying with all his heart that it is _not_ Dream’s father who just entered.

Thankfully, the person who appears is merely Sapnap who lost the white headband. He balances a tray of teapot and teacups in his hand, setting it down on the table.

“I thought you might like some tea,” Sapnap says, pouring each of them a cup.

“Thanks, Sapnap. You’re the best.” Dream reaches over for a cup of tea, almost scalding his fingers against the hot surface. Sapnap pays him no mind and continues pouring the tea for George and Wilbur.

“Did you know about this, Sapnap?” George asks, gesturing to the wall. Sapnap does not even bother looking up.

“It’s hard _not_ to know when you’re the one keeping this room tidy,” Sapnap says, glancing around at the clothes and books all over the floor. He sighs dramatically.

“Sorry,” Dream says, not sounding very sorry at all. “Look, guys. This is going to be one of the greatest findings of the century,” Dream says with the biggest grin on his face.

Wilbur knows exactly what Dream is going to say next, although he might not like it.

“I’m going to find the Akbadain Ruins,” Dream says, thumping his chest with a fist. “With the Mask of Chaos and the Norwell Wall as my guides.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzles in this Chapter:  
> That's Juicy  
> Nine Red Bricks


	4. The Battle for Monte d'Or

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> figuring out the dark miracles

[When](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBT_79RYNp4) Wilbur awakes the next morning, it is to a rude weight launched upon his chest, knocking the air from his lungs.

“Get up, Wilbur. Get up, get up, get up.”

Tommy rolls about on him, locks of blond hair ending up in his mouth. Wilbur splutters, shoving the insolent child off him. He nurses his stomach, mourning the throb in his ribs as he rises. The sunlight filtering through his room only gets more intense as _someone_ decides to throw the curtains aside.

“Rise and shine, Wilbur. It’s a great time to start the day,” Puffy singsongs. “I’m getting real hungry, by the way.”

Figures. Wilbur yawns, back of his hand cupping his mouth as he blinks blearily, vision marred by tired tears. How much can he bribe Puffy and Tommy with to grant him just five more minutes of rest?

“Come on, Wilbur,” Tommy says, gathering his things up from the bedside table. “Breakfast. I’m starving.”

“Give me a minute. I need to get ready.” Wilbur throws the covers off of him, flinching at the sudden bite of the cold, and drags himself to the bathroom.

Within minutes, they are ready. Tommy and Puffy are most eager, absolutely buzzing with excitement for the day. Wilbur, on the other hand, looks like a jaded office worker. The difference is remarkable, he thinks, as he looks at them through the reflective surface of the elevator doors.

After breakfast, the trio heads out to the warm, morning streets of Monte d’Or. Unlike its night scene, the city is mostly deserted in the daytime.

“Where are we going first, Wilbur?” Tommy asks.

“Sapnap. We need to speak with Sapnap,” Wilbur says. Being Dream’s best friend, he may know something about the mask. Besides, Wilbur needs to know how the mask ended up in his and George’s possession. It should have disappeared along with Dream five years ago.

The walk to the Found residence is one of the quietest that Wilbur has ever strolled. Most of the casinos are closed in the day, as well as the shops and carnival stores. The only people up and about are schoolchildren and a couple of shopkeepers or police officers.

“Hey, is that-?”

Tommy points at a girl sitting on a bench at the edge of a fountain in the town plaza, kicking aimlessly at the ground. This is the same girl who was separated from her mother the night before. What is _she_ doing here?

“Do you think she could have lost her mother again?” Puffy asks.

Wilbur hopes not. He also hopes that neither Tommy nor Puffy would bother with the girl’s predicament. They have their own important investigation to carry out.

Unfortunately, Wilbur’s hopes are always dashed, whether he likes it or not.

“Hello!”

Puffy squats by the bench, peering up at the girl with her head on her hands. The girl blinks, adjusting her cap.

“You’re the lady from yesterday!”

“Yes, I am!” Puffy says with the brightest smile on her face. “What’s wrong? You look troubled.”

“My mum gave me a puzzle, but I just can’t solve it,” the girl mutters, her tormented expression morphing into one of mischief. “Can you help me, miss?”

“Of course,” Puffy says. She moves to sit by the girl on the bench. Tommy settles beside her. “This nice gentleman can solve it for you.”

“Now see here, Puffy…” Wilbur starts, but the girl lifts her head to stare up at him with those sparkling puppy eyes. Puffy, on the other hand, glares daggers at him.

What the hell.

[ ** <Puzzle: Tenth-Round Ace> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g&)

“So there are two people, A and B, and they are competing with each other in a ten-round card game. The rules are simple: fire beats wood, wood beats water, and water beats fire.

“The details of the rounds aren’t clear, but A drew fire three times, wood five times and water twice. B drew fire twice, wood five times and water three times. None of the rounds were draws.

Who won the match?”

“Well…” Wilbur sighs. “It has to be A.”

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBT_79RYNp4) reasoning is nothing exceptional. Given enough time and a pen and paper, most people should be able to work this one out. The girl nods in wonder.

“Oh, do you know where my mother went?” the girl asks suddenly. “I think I’ve lost her.”

What can Wilbur say?

“We’ll help you look for her,” Puffy says. “Do you know where you last saw her?”

“Well…” The girl glances around. “I think it was around the art museum.”

“We’re headed that way too! Let’s go!”

Wilbur sighs. Tommy trails beside him.

“What’s wrong?” Wilbur asks. “Don’t you like making new friends?”

Tommy scoffs. “She’s busy being Puffy’s friend right now.”

Wilbur bites the insides of his cheek, trying to suppress a smirk. Is Tommy feeling left out now? They make their way to the town plaza, where the art museum remains closed. Wilbur wonders when they will open again; they still need to investigate that curious incident, after all. Paintings cannot simply come alive on a whim.

“Mum!”

The girl breaks free from Puffy’s grasp and dashes down the street. She launches herself at her ginger-haired mother, arms hugging her as tightly as she can. Her mother, jolted from the sudden shove, drops her gaze.

“Cookie! There you are!”

The girl, Cookie, snivels as she nuzzles into her mother’s pant leg. Her mother reaches over and ruffles her hair.

“You are…oh! The nice strangers from yesterday!”

“Puffy,” Puffy says, holding out a hand, which the mother shakes. Wilbur introduces himself and Tommy as well.

“Thank you for finding my Cookie for me,” the mother says. “I’m Tanya, by the way. I hope she didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Puffy says, flashing a polite smile. “Cookie is really energetic.”

“Tell me about it.” Tanya sighs. She bids them a pleasant goodbye, and as soon as she turns her back, Wilbur is taking off down the alley leading to the Found residence.

The familiar manor comes into view, as well as the lovely flower garden. The aroma of roses can be smelled from just outside the gate. The gate is unlocked this time, much to Wilbur’s relief.

Wilbur knocks on the door and it is George who greets them again.

[“Good](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSbheIypPtk) morning, Wilbur. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Wilbur nods. “Has Sapnap returned?”

George shakes his head. “He just left. If you had come a few minutes earlier, you could have caught him.”

It looks like Wilbur’s sloth has impeded the investigation. He bites back the urge to sigh.

“But he did give you permission to examine his study, if you’d like,” George says.

Wilbur’s eyes light up. “Of course. May we come in?”

George laughs. “You’ve really cultivated some manners.”

Tommy snorts.

The manor is brighter in the daytime, illuminated by natural sunlight through the windows, the thick curtains bound to the sides. George leads them over to a room at the far end, with Sapnap’s name engraved onto a brass plate on the door.

Sapnap’s office is large, covered in more relics and artefacts than Dream ever had. Wilbur wonders when he has got the opportunity to go excavating when he has been working on building Monte d’Or up. Ornamental blades, scrolls of scriptures, metallic parts crusted with dirt…

Wilbur scrunches his nose up at the lines of symbols on the relics. “Sapnap seems obsessed with the Azran.”

George shrugs. “He can’t get over Dream’s…He can’t get over Dream.”

Like you, Wilbur thinks. The pendant that rests on George’s collarbone is a testament to that.

Wilbur approaches the lone frame above Sapnap’s chair. “Is this where the Mask was displayed?”

“Yes. It was stolen,” George says, shaking his head. “It was a few nights ago, before the whole Masked Gentleman business. Neither of us were at home, but when we returned, the Mask was gone. There weren’t even signs of a break-in.”

“How so?”

“Windows were intact and the doors were shut tight. The servants didn’t see anyone strange as well.”

It looks like the Masked Gentleman is not making this easy for them. Something foreign bubbles up in Wilbur’s chest. Anticipation? Excitement? The last time he felt this way was with…Dream. Nothing can quite compare to the thrill of a chase, be it with treasure, or a person.

“I see,” Wilbur says, rubbing his chin.

“Then how’d he get in?” Tommy asks.

Good question.

“Maybe the Masked Gentleman posed as a servant,” Puffy suggests. Exactly what Wilbur had thought, but even so, could a lowly servant enter Sapnap’s office? Especially when he keeps the Mask of Chaos in plain sight?

Speaking of which…why does Sapnap display the Mask in such a brazen manner anyway? It is as if he is inviting thieves to steal it.

“It’s possible,” Wilbur says, “that he did pose as a servant. Someone of a higher rank who could access the study.”

“Only Sapnap and I can,” George says, folding his arms. “There are too many valuable things in here let just anyone enter. We don’t post guards outside the house but there are countless servants in the house. They would have noticed something.”

Wilbur nods. “I see. In that case, posing as a servant would be nigh impossible.” He throws a few glances about. “Standing here and talking about it will yield us no results on this matter. Might I change the topic, George?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you know who stands to benefit from the Masked Gentleman’s antics?” Wilbur asks. “From what I can see, the stunts he pulls seems to attract many visitors to Monte d’Or.”

“Yes, well…it’s not very day you get to witness a dark miracle,” George says, expression hardening.

“More visitors mean more revenue, right?” Puffy says.

“Indeed,” Wilbur says. “The Masked Gentleman’s appearance would most likely have benefitted the people who own businesses such as hotels and casinos in the city.”

“You’re not suggesting…” George starts, furrowing his brow.

Wilbur nods. “Perhaps.”

“Sapnap loves this city, Wilbur,” George huffs. “There’s no way he would permit something like this…”

“He permits this because he loves the city,” Wilbur says. “Through the Masked Gentleman’s ‘dark miracles’, he is helping the city grow its tourist base.”

George shakes his head. “I still don’t believe it.”

“Unless you can provide another individual who can gain from this…”

“Do you remember Punz? Luke Punz?” George says.

Ah, Punz. The boy from the other class who used to look down on Dream’s aspirations. Has he moved here as well? It would make sense. The nature of this city certainly suits his lofty money-making goals.

“What about him?”

“Punz could be the Masked Gentleman this too,” George says. “He’s Sapnap’s financial rival. They’re always butting heads.”

“Shall we pay Mr Punz a visit, then?” Puffy asks.

Wilbur nods. “We must leave no stone unturned.” He thanks George for his help and the trio promptly leave the estate.

“You think this Sapnap guy is suspicious?” Tommy asks. “I thought he was your friend.”

“He is, still,” Wilbur says with a noncommittal shrug. “However, we cannot exclude any plausible possibility.”

When Sapnap is free, Wilbur will return with a boatload of questions. Mark his words. For now, they will have to make their way to Punz’s estate. According to George, it lies beyond the circus, at the easternmost side of town.

With Puffy and Tommy following loyally behind, Wilbur makes his way to his old friend’s house.

*

[“You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBT_79RYNp4) don’t see plants like these in London,” Puffy says, poking carefully at a cactus’ spike.

“That’s because we’re in a desert,” Tommy says as a matter-of-factly.

Punz’s house is nothing short of a mansion as impressive as George and Sapnap’s. Surrounded by a stone wall painted in stripes of white and black, Punz’s house is also guarded by a ferocious-looking canine, collared and tied to a wooden post outside the door. Wilbur does not trust the integrity of that post.

Puffy rings the doorbell and they wait for someone to greet them. The door opens and a butler walks over, dressed in a suit and bowtie.

“Good day, sirs and madam,” the butler says, bowing. “How may I help you today?”

“Is Punz in?” Wilbur asks. “Tell him that Wilbur Soot wishes to see him.”

“Of course, sir.” The butler gives them a pleasant smile. “However, I would require you to solve this puzzle first. As per the Master’s request, you see. He only answers to people who can solve it.”

What a strange security measure, Wilbur thinks. “What is the puzzle?”

[ ** <Puzzle: Guess Stars> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g&)

“I have with me five bottlecaps,” the butler says, holding up five identical caps, each with a yellow star on one of their sides. He places them on a ledge, with all five stars facing upwards.

“Suppose I begin to turn over the caps at random, and will count at every turn,” the butler says. “Once I reach twenty-five, I will cover one of the caps and ask you whether the cap’s star is facing up or down given this situation.”

The butler presses his hand over one of the caps and flips over two of the other four. Now, out of four visible caps, two of them show the star logo, while the other two do not.

“Well, it has to be that it is facing up,” Wilbur says, almost instantly. Tommy mutters a profanity under his breath.

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBT_79RYNp4) butler scoops the caps in hand and returns them to his pocket. He bows once more. “Please wait a moment while I-”

“That won’t be necessary, Gonzales.”

The butler springs to attention, spinning on his heels. A familiar man walks over to them, in a white hoodie and golden necklace that Wilbur would recognize from anywhere.

“Punz,” Wilbur greets. Punz raises a brow.

“Didn’t think I’d find you here, Soot,” Punz says. With the press of a button, the automatic metal gate standing between Wilbur and Punz slide aside. “And I see you’ve got new friends.”

“They are my assistants.”

“Even the boy?” Punz says with a bark of laughter.

“Hey! I’m good at puzzles too!” Tommy sniffs indignantly.

“I’m not doubting your ability,” Punz says. “But you’ve got a bright future ahead of you. You’d do better than to let this man waste it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Wilbur snaps.

“Wilbur’s a good guy,” Tommy huffs, folding his arms.

“You haven’t told them about Dream, Wilbur?” Punz says. He addresses Tommy and Puffy. “His best friend died because of him. Him and Sapnap.”

[“Sapnap](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MiQlrk3NmNI) has nothing to do with this!” Wilbur takes a threatening step towards Punz, who merely laughs.

“You can’t hide it, Wilbur. The lingering sense of guilt that’s been your prison for years,” Punz says. “You didn’t stop him. You didn’t say no, and you failed to save him. In fact, I think Sapnap is more malicious than you are.”

Wilbur stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“You want to know what I think about this whole Masked Gentleman act?” Punz says. “I think Sapnap encouraged Dream to go on that expedition five years ago because he knew he was gonna die. And when Dream did, Sapnap took his man and his riches.”

“That’s a lie.”

Punz ignores him. “And George initiated this whole Masked Gentleman act because he wanted to get back at Sapnap for killing Dream. He wants to kill this town, George does.”

“What do you mean kill this town?” Puffy asks. Wilbur pretends not to hear the simmering anger in her tone.

“The Masked Gentleman act isn’t good for business, no matter what you guys might think,” Punz says. “Property getting destroyed, people turning into horses and getting burned alive. No one’s gonna feel safe in a city like that.”

Wilbur frowns. He _had_ considered it, but…

“Master!”

The butler from earlier dashes up to them, clutching two envelopes in his hand.

“What is it?” Punz asks.

“Mail,” the butler says, bowing deeply and holding out the envelopes to Punz and Wilbur. “From the Masked Gentleman, sir!”

Wilbur has never torn the envelope open so fast in his life, ripping through the paper like a shredder. Tommy tiptoes to get a better look.

“Greetings, my friends,” Puffy reads. “I trust you enjoyed last night’s festivities. I certainly did. It was refreshing! You see, people made of stone cannot lie or cheat. In fact, they cannot do anything unpleasant. They just stand there in dignified silence.

“To rob a person of their power to do evil is miraculous, don’t you think? Almost as miraculous as my follow-up tonight. I will be performing at the Gallery Plaza and I assure you it will be a most enlightening experience. I hope you will attend.

“Until then, I, the Masked Gentleman, shall bid you adieu.”

“Gallery Plaza?” Punz mutters, staring bewilderedly at the letter.

“Wait, if Punz received a letter too, doesn’t that mean that he isn’t the Masked Gentleman?” Tommy asks. The butler turns on him, looking absolutely upset.

“What are you talking about? Master cannot be-”

“Hey, Wilbur.”

Punz fixes him with a steely gaze. “I heard the officers at the City Hall are struggling with the investigation. Maybe you’d like to give them a hand.”

Wilbur crumples the letter and shoves it into his pocket. “I will.”

“See you then,” Punz says, waving carelessly as he heads back into his manor with his butler, giving his Great Dane a good pat on the head as he enters. The butler closes the gate with a little more force than Wilbur deems necessary.

“What was that all about?” Puffy wonders aloud. Wilbur shrugs.

Intended or not, Punz graciously provided them their next lead. Wilbur is not quite sure whether he should be feeling grateful just yet.

*

[Monte](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Chac6DhaYJE&) d’Or’s City Hall lies at the other end of the city, a twenty-minute walk from Punz’s estate. The City Hall is guarded by officers, each looking no different from the other from the length of their hair to the way they wear the uniform the exact same way…

“You must be Professor Soot!” one of the officers salutes him.

“Yes,” Wilbur says, tugging at his coat as he tries to recognize the officer before him. “Do I know you?”

“I was the one who took your statement, sir!” the officer says. “Back at the parade street!”

Oh. Wilbur can hardly tell him apart from the officer standing on the other side of the entrance.

“Are you here to aid in the investigation, sir? Oh, I must inform the Inspectors at once!”

Inspectors? More than one? It makes Wilbur wonder whether Inspector Ponk is involved in this messy business. Before Wilbur can ask him any more questions, the officer is off, bumbling back into the office.

“He’s an energetic man, isn’t he?” Puffy says, hands on her hips.

The other officer by the entrance sighs in response. “He is, though he usually gets in trouble with Inspector Sheffield.” He pushes the door open. “Please, let me guide you to the conference room.”

“We’d appreciate that. Thank you,” Wilbur says. The officer beams, leading them into the grand City Hall building.

*

Wilbur never did think that he would wind up in another police facility so soon. Already, several officers are gathered, seated at the desks. A projector hangs from the ceiling and a screen is drawn in front of the room.

“Sirs,” the officer guiding them greets the three bigwigs standing by a computer. “Professor Soot is here.”

“Professor! And Puffy!” Ponk cries, striding over to them. “How are you doing today?”

The other two officers do not look nearly as thrilled. One of them, with the unibrow and small eyes, regard them with a suspicious gaze. The other dressed smartly in a beige suit, with feline features, flash them a pleasant smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Professor,” the man in beige holds a hand out. Wilbur shakes it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Inspector…”

“Frost,” the man says. “Ant Frost.”

“Inspector Frost.” Wilbur turns his attention to the other burly man. “And you too, Inspector Sheffield.”

Sheffield huffs. “Get seated. We’re going to begin the meeting.”

Not very cordial now, is he? Wilbur does as he is told, and beckons Puffy and Tommy over to the lone, unoccupied desk at the front of the room. Frost stands to the side, and Ponk switches the lights off. A beam of light shoots forth from the projector, hitting the blank screen.

The picture shown is that of chaos: of people running for their lives, of horses galloping amongst the crowd.

“As you know,” Inspector Sheffield says, addressing the crowd of police officers, “the Masked Gentleman has been causing havoc in town. The goal of this meeting is for us to determine how he could have carried out these feats.”

[ ** <Puzzle Battle: vs Masked Gentleman> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iq9MTOpJOU&)

“A few days ago, he performed his first dark miracle,” Sheffield continues.

The one about the horses, presumably.

“Now, to give a recap of the incident at hand,” Frost says. “Three nights ago, during the parade, the Masked Gentleman appeared before the town. According to eyewitnesses, there was a blinding flash of light. When the light cleared, some of the people appeared to have turned into horses.”

“Horses! The ones eating grass in the fields,” Ponk says.

“Strangely enough, we have yet to identify the victims,” Sheffield says, clearing his throat.

There must be a trick to this dark miracle, and Wilbur is determined to figure out what. Tourists were turned into horses in the middle of the parade. He has much too little information right now for him to truly grasp the intricacies of this situation.

“Does the parade take place at the same time every night, Inspector Sheffield?” Wilbur asks.

Sheffield nods. “Just after sunset. Parade street.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Professor?” Frost says with a smile. Wilbur bites the inside of his cheeks. It is obvious now how the trick was accomplished… “The one key element of the Masked Gentleman’s first miracle is…

  1. …the time of day.”
  2. …the weather.”
  3. …the colours of the parade.”



“If it had been dark, then people would likely have missed the setup required for the miracle’s success,” Wilbur agrees.

“It’s also easier to blind people with bright light at night,” Puffy chirps.

Now, how does this piece of information aid them?

“Funnily enough, some eyewitnesses claim that they did see the transformation of people into horses,” Sheffield says. “How’d you explain that, eh?”

Clearly, since that is just not possible, the witnesses must be mistaken, and in the most basic way possible. There is only one explanation for this, and that is…

  1. “The witnesses ran away.”
  2. “There were no tourists.”
  3. “Their eyes were closed.”



“Indeed,” Frost says.

“Since the parade occurred at night, the Masked Gentleman must have used the bright light to blind the witnesses for a couple of seconds. The horses that were hidden would be subsequently released into the crowd to cause mayhem,” Wilbur says. “They simply needed to dress the horses with minimal accessories.”

“You keep talking about releasing the horses into the audience,” Ponk says. “Where did the horses come from?”

Sheffield shoots him a glare. Wilbur ignores him. Where _had_ the horses been, indeed?

  1. The nearby alleyways.
  2. Hidden in a cart.
  3. Lowered from the air.



“There were many alleyways that open up into the parade street,” Wilbur says. “In the cover of the darkness and with the parade in session, I doubt that the crowd would have noticed the horses gathered in the alleyways. When the time is right, the Masked Gentleman merely had to generate the flashes of light, signalling the release of the horses.”

“So you’re saying that there are accomplices,” Frost says.

“Essentially, yes. It would have been impossible for the Masked Gentleman to have performed that feat alone.”

“That’s it, then? It was all just a parlour trick?” Sheffield grunts.

“I’d wager the rest are all ‘just parlour tricks’ too,” Wilbur says, “and I intend to expose them for what they are.”

Frost nods. “Very well, we shall move on to the next dark miracle.”

The next picture that flashes on screen is that of a museum, a large gallery that Wilbur had never seen before. Naturally, since the museum had been closed when they arrived in Monte d’Or.

“Now, the peculiar incident of the paintings that come alive,” Sheffield says. “Two days ago, paintings had been recently donated to the museum. The people seemingly leapt from the paintings, their rowdy behaviour causing the breakage of many artefacts and art pieces.”

As with the horses, there must be a trick to this one. Similarly, Wilbur has minimal information. What should he ask this time?

  1. “Were those paintings from a common source?”
  2. “Where were those paintings displayed?”
  3. “Are they of similar worth?”



“They were,” Ponk says. “They were donated from the same person, but he was unnamed.”

“Do you think that there was something off about those paintings as well?” Frost asks, eyes sparkling.

There must be. The trick to the dark miracle must lie in the very nature of the paintings themselves. People cannot leap from paintings, but how may the painting appear such that the people had disappeared? Wilbur has an idea, but he must ask a question to further confirm his suspicions.

  1. “Were those paintings strangely-packaged?”
  2. “Were the frames suspicious?”
  3. “Were the contents of the painting similar?”



“Well, they were vacuum-packed,” Sheffield says. “I’m not sure how helpful that is, though.”

Wilbur smiles. “On the contrary, Inspector. That is very helpful.” Now that he knows that he is on the right track, he simply needs to verify the final portions of his theory. “Were there special instructions regarding the display of the paintings? Say, for example…

  1. …where the paintings are to be displayed?”
  2. …how the paintings are to be displayed?”
  3. …when the paintings are to be displayed?”



“How did you know that?” Sheffield asks, narrowing his eyes.

Wilbur can hardly suppress the satisfaction bubbling up in his chest. “You see, I simply operated on a premise. And that premise is that paintings cannot come alive.”

“Everyone knows that, Professor Soot,” Sheffield mutters.

“Now, knowing that paintings cannot come alive, then we must consider alternate possibilities. First, we must solve the puzzle of how the people emerged from the painting. Long story short, they did not. They were merely people dressed up in medieval clothing who appeared as soon as they received the signal.”

“Where did they get the medieval clothing?” Ponk asks.

“ our visit to Madam Lapushka’s, she mentioned a costumer who dealt primarily in medieval clothing, like suits of armour. I suggest you investigate that retailer and ask whether they sold any pieces of such costumes recently.”

Sheffield gestures to one of the officers, and he and his partner stands, saluting them. The duo marches out of the room.

“Now, the final piece of the puzzle,” Wilbur says, holding up a finger. “We know that the paintings are vacuum-packed, and that the museum staff were told to display them at a certain time. We also know that the people who leapt out of the paintings did not actually emerge from them. Now, we are merely left with the mystery of how the people in the paintings disappeared.”

Tommy looks physically pained, unable to wrap his head around the matter.

“It’s simple, really,” Wilbur says. “The only way they could have done this is through the use of…

  1. ...Magic”
  2. ...Vanishing paint.”
  3. ...Glue”



“Vanishing paint?” Ponk cries incredulously.

“The background of the painting was painted on with regular paint, but the people depicted were painted with vanishing paint, set to vanish after a set amount of time.”

“That’s why there were special instructions…” Puffy muses.

“Exactly,” Wilbur says. “The timing the paintings were displayed was crucial. Their contents had to vanish as soon as the actors appeared, and I suspect that the paint used would begin to vanish after being exposed to air for a certain amount of time.”

“And that’s how the Masked Gentleman carried out the dark miracle,” Frost says, nodding thoughtfully. “Impressive.”

Wilbur smirks as he settles back into his seat.

“Now, on to the final miracle,” Frost says. The photograph of the museum changes to that of a globe weaved of wire, a blanket of ashes covering its bottom. “Thirteen people were publicly burned to death in this sphere. However, when they were investigated, we realized that all thirteen of them remained home, unaware of the miracle. _But_ they received a letter from the Masked Gentleman, threatening them with unspeakable consequences should they choose not to attend.”

One of the most peculiar miracles, Wilbur would say. However, as with the other two, there must be a trick to this as well. They just have to find out what it is.

“Could there have been a space under the stage to hide the thirteen people?” Puffy asks.

Ponk shakes his head, denying the possibility. “The entire dome was consumed by flames.”

It looks like they cannot attack from that angle. Instead of focusing on the setup itself, could they focus on the thirteen people?

Now, is there anything that Wilbur should ask about?

  1. “Were they magicians?”
  2. “Were they friends with each other?”
  3. “Were they the Masked Gentleman’s accomplices?”



Sheffield glances around the room. “Who was the sad sack who took their statements?”

“I-It was me, sir!” One of the officers rises from his seat, standing at attention with a stiff salute. “And…um…they weren’t exactly friends, per se…”

“What do you mean?” Frost asks.

“They were pa…pa…They were from the same squash club,” the officer stutters, fumbling with the hem of his uniform.

“I think that the young officer may have just found a lead,” Wilbur says, standing to face him as well. “I have another question for you, officer. Did any of the witnesses…

  1. …see the victims go up on stage?”
  2. …any of the thirteen hide?”
  3. …the Masked Gentleman?”



“Well, no…actually,” the officer says, a contemplative expression upon his face. “No one left the stage as…as well.”

“And this was in the middle of the daytime! How did the Masked Gentleman do that?” Tommy wonders aloud, earning Sheffield’s displeased grunt.

“I have one final question,” Wilbur says, ignoring Tommy. He will explain everything in due time. “The thirteen people. Were they wearing…

  1. …extravagant clothing?”
  2. …nothing?”
  3. …other clothes later on?”



“Well, I ca…I mean, I think so,” the officer says. “Yes, I think they were! Wait! Let me check the pictures!”

With that, the officer runs off, eager as a rabbit.

“What’s this all about?” Sheffield asks.

“I think I know what the Professor is getting at,” Frost says with a smile, absently fingering the brim of his cap.

The officer returns swiftly, bringing with him a manila folder. Upon the retrieval of the photographs and documents from within the folder, triumph dances in Wilbur’s heart when he realizes that he has indeed gotten the answer.

“You’re right, sir! They’re wearing different clo…outfits,” the officer says, gesturing to the photographs that Puffy and Tommy are poring over.

“What does that mean?” Ponk asks.

“Officer, I’d like you to check if the thirteen people had also received a letter asking for them to remain at home,” Wilbur says. “Pronto.”

“Yessir!”

With that, the officer takes off once more.

“What are you thinking, Professor?” Frost asks.

“The thirteen ‘people’ who had been, supposedly, burned to death,” Wilbur says, “were not actually people. They were mannequins moulded in the likeness of the thirteen people. These mannequins were then dressed in their squash uniforms” – Wilbur gestures at the photographs taken of the thirteen people mixed with the other documents from the manila folder – “and then subsequently burned.”

As soon as Wilbur concludes his explanation, the officer bursts through the door once more.

“We phoned two of the supposed victims,” the officer says breathlessly. “You were right on the money, Professor! They were told that they should not reveal the second letter to the police lest they invite violence upon themselves.”

“Thank you for your hard work,” Wilbur says. “There we have it. That is how thirteen people were burned to death without actually _being_ burned to death.”

“You’re telling me the whole time we’ve been fooled by such sleazy sleight-of-hands?” Sheffield looks affronted.

Wilbur shrugs. He is not going to dignify that with a response.

[“In any](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Chac6DhaYJE&) case, it was a pleasure working with you, Professor,” Frost says. At that moment, Sheffield’s phone rings. He answers it with a curt voice, hanging up abruptly.

“Museum’s open,” Sheffield says. “Mr Sapnap just donated a whole bunch of pieces to replace the phony ones.”

Wilbur nods. It looks like their new lead has just arrived at their doorstep. With a quick goodbye to the three Inspectors, Wilbur exits the room with Tommy and Puffy in tow.

“That was kinda awesome, to be honest,” Tommy says, jogging a little to keep up with Wilbur’s massive strides.

“Yeah, right? It’s always cool when Wilbur does stuff like that.”

Wilbur quashes the miniscule flutter in his chest at that. He cannot let such mushy compliments get to him.

Letting people in only brings pain.

Dream…

Niki…and Fundy…

Wilbur nearly walks right into the door of city hall’s entrance. He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he did not pay attention to his surroundings.

“You alright, big man?” Tommy asks.

“Never better,” Wilbur lies, straightening his coat. “Let us go.”

“To the museum?” Puffy asks.

“To the museum.”

*

“Professor! We’ve been expecting you!”

Wilbur does not remember being this famous. To be honest, it _is_ somewhat unsettling when people seem to recognize him wherever he goes. The museum’s curator greets him with a firm handshake, as he does Tommy and Puffy as well.

“I assume you are here to view the gallery whereby the magic paintings had been displayed?”

“Yes please.” Perhaps Sheffield told him about his imminent arrival.

The curator leads them over to the main gallery, a big one just down the hallway. The place smells of ancient ruins, housing relics of times long past. An ammonite shell, a sample of amber and a dented helmet amongst others.

The paintings showcased in the main gallery seem to be of the medieval theme, crafted from oils. Wilbur does find himself appreciating the fine arts once in a while, but not while he is in the middle of an investigation. The paintings that Sapnap donated must have already replaced the phony ones.

“Thank you so much for getting to the bottom of the dark miracle. I simply cannot thank you enough,” the curator babbles. “I wasn’t sure how long we’d have to wait for the museum to-”

“We are very happy that it has reopened as well,” Puffy says curtly. “Do you know what happened to the people who caused trouble here, Mr…” She glances at his nametag. “Artie?”

Artie shakes his head woefully. “I can’t say I do, young miss. They disappeared as quickly as they came. Perhaps you should speak to Madam Lapushka about this. She is _the_ one people go to for gossip.”

It seems that they will be returning to that shop sooner than expected. Wilbur bids a relieved goodbye to Artie as they leave.

“He’s a talkative man,” Tommy comments.

“More talkative than you and that’s saying something,” Wilbur says distastefully.

Tommy narrows his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wilbur hums.

[Madam](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOI8fHbg9Qg) Lapushka’s shop stands out even in the day, even without the neon lights of her glaring sign. The weird outfits she puts out as advertisement seems to work wonders, what with the sheer number of tourists clamouring to get in and try on those revolting masks and costumes.

Lapushka is busy attending to a customer when they enter. Wilbur mills about the mask section, frowning at a golden and black mask. Who in the world would wear one of these? Just to his left, Tommy tries on a mask with a fake nose.

“Wilbur, look at me.”

Wilbur does not need to turn his head to witness the atrocity that is Tommy through his peripheral vision. Tommy seems to notice, cackling as he removes the mask and puts it back where it belongs.

“Look at me, Wilbur.”

Not Puffy too. When did Wilbur transform into a jaded caregiver for two children? He is a distinguished professor in archaeology, for God’s sake!

“How may I help you? You look like you have some questions,” Lapushka says, smiling pleasantly as she leans against the rack for hideous hats. “If it’s a little gossip you’re after, you’ve come to the right place!”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Wilbur says. He clears his throat. “Regarding the local police force…they do not seem very competent, do they? Having to summon two Inspectors from Scotland Yard to aid in their investigation?”

“Well…” Lapushka nibbles at her bottom lip. “Most people know that the officers here are terrible at their job, but that’s because they’re rather newly established. They haven’t been around all that long. Monte d’Or was only built about two years ago.”

“And Sapnap was the one who built it from the ground up?”

“Indeed,” Lapushka says. “He started with the Reunion Inn. Monte d’Or sort of grew around that hotel.”

“Reunion Inn?”

“The largest hotel in town. It’s at the north of the city,” Lapushka says. “It’s meant for the richest of the rich, though. Their service is truly top class.”

Wilbur nods. He may check out this Reunion Inn at some point in time.

“Why didn’t Gogy book us a room at the Reunion Inn, then?” Tommy asks, sounding disappointed.

Now that Wilbur thinks about it…well, he is not in any position to question George’s choices anyway. “In any case, about the Masked Gentleman,” Wilbur says. “Do you know of anyone who might harbour a grudge against the city, or Sapnap?”

Lapushka purses her lips. “I don’t think so. People tend to be bitter if they lose at casino games, and since Mr Sapnap owns half the casinos in the city…”

“But from the dark miracles, it doesn’t look like the Masked Gentleman is short on cash…” Puffy mumbles. Wilbur has no contention with that point.

“Then, I’m afraid I wouldn’t know,” Lapushka says. “Monte d’Or handles conflict rather well, I’d say, for a very young city, and it’s all thanks to Misters Found and Sapnap. That’s why this Masked Gentleman ordeal has become a big thing.”

“I see,” Wilbur says, nodding. It looks like they have hit a dead end pursuing this lead. They will have to follow up on others now. “Madam Lapushka, you know of a retailer who sold medieval costumes recently, I heard.”

“They were rented, not bought,” Lapushka says. “But yes, I do know of the man.”

“Do you know who rented those costumes?”

Lapushka rubs her chin. “I will have to check in with the retailer himself. It’ll only take me a minute!”

With that, she shuffles into the back to make the call, leaving Wilbur, Puffy and Tommy standing outside.

“I don’t get it at all, Wilbur,” Tommy says. “So the Masked Gentleman _isn_ _’_ _t_ Punz or Sapnap?”

“I have not yet eliminated them from the list,” Wilbur says. “I just do not suspect them of committing the act for wealth. Not when the dark miracles may drive tourists away.”

“But you think that Punz has a grudge against Monte d’Or?”

“Certainly a possibility, and we cannot deny what Punz mentioned about George as well, as much as I hate to admit it,” Wilbur says. If George does harbour a grudge against Sapnap for encouraging Dream to enter the ruins, then…

It would not be much of a leap to imagine that he was the one who set up the whole Masked Gentleman scheme, or that he is the Masked Gentleman himself.

It is not long before Madam Lapushka hurries back to their sides, with new information on hand.

“Turns out they rented the costumes to the circus,” Madam Lapushka says.

“The circus, you say?” Wilbur hums. It looks like they will have to pay them a visit. If he remembers correctly, they passed the circus by on the way to Punz’s house.

The trio bids a quick farewell to Madam Lapushka and leaves her shop, making a beeline for the circus sitting at the edge of town.

*

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHpmHZb8OzI) circus is quiet in the daytime, with several performers dressed in flashy and clown-like outfits running about, distributing flyers and engaging the few members of the audience with their glamorous acts.

“Welcome! Welcome!” A clown, face caked heavily in makeup, walks over to them. Wilbur notes the peculiar…spades and clubs drawn across his eyes, sharply contrasting the rest of his whitened face. “Welcome to the One-Ring Circus. The name’s Juggles.”

Rather on brand, Wilbur thinks, as Juggles pulls out four balls and begins to juggle them.

“How may I help you, dear guests?” Juggles says, ending off his routine with a flourish.

“We’d like to see the ringmaster,” Wilbur says, clearing his throat. “If that is alright with you?”

“What? Old man Tyrone?” Juggles hums, folding his arms and swaying. Wilbur is afraid for a moment that Juggles would decline, but he merely throws his hands up. “I’m sure he won’t mind, old man Tyrone. Come on in.”

Juggles pushes his way past the other rowdy performers, beckoning them into the main tent.

“That was easy,” Puffy comments.

Tommy, on the other hand, is enraptured by a card trick performed by a nearby magician.

The main tent is big and gaudy, striking colours blinding Wilbur no matter where he looks. Juggles and the ringmaster, Tyrone, stands atop the stage, right below the equipment used for acrobatics. They appear to be speaking seriously.

“Ah, there they are.” Juggles waves to them. Tyrone glances over. He is a heavily-built man, looking capable of punting Wilbur out of the tent if he so wishes.

“Who are you?” Tyrone squints at them, before turning back to Juggles. “I have important matters on my hands, Juggles. We don’t just let any unauthorized personnel _enter_ the tent at their request-”

“You’re not usually very busy, Tyr-”

Tommy stifles a snigger.

“Oh shut up and get back to work!” Tyrone huffs. Juggles looks entirely unaffected by the encounter. He bids them a cheery farewell and returns to the front of the tent.

Tyrone drags a hand across his face before addressing them. “You must want something from me.”

Wilbur tucks his hands in his pockets. “Quite.”

“There are no free lunches in the world,” Tyrone says. “If you want my help, you’re going to have to help me in return.”

“Yeah, he can help,” Tommy says quickly, jabbing a thumb at Wilbur. Wilbur is not entirely sure how to pay Tommy back for his betrayal.

“There’s just a puzzle I need solving,” Tyrone says with a deep sigh. “Been on my mind for ages now. That bloody Juggles…”

“Let’s hear it,” Wilbur says. “What is this puzzle?”

[ ** <Puzzle: King Arthur ** ** ’ ** ** s Sword> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g)

[ ](https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle:King_Arthur%27s_Sword?file=MM081.png)

“This artistic boy wants to make a stained-glass picture based on the legend of King Arthur by sticking bits of coloured sheets to the atrium window.

The sheets used for the sword are going to be yellow, but he wants to design the rest such that none of the other parts are the same colour as any adjacent part.

Your job is to find out what is the minimum number of different coloured sheets he will need, including the yellow sheet for the sword parts?”

“Four,” Wilbur says. “It looks like you may only do it with three, but there exists this part” – he points out a spot on the picture – “that requires a third colour.”

[Tyrone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHpmHZb8OzI) nods thoughtfully. “Never did think that you would be able to solve it this fast. Fine. Ask whatever you like.”

“Is it through that this circus rented several sets of costumes recently?” Wilbur asks. “Say, a few days ago?”

Tyrone scratches his chin. “Yeah, we did. What about it?”

“You see, we have deduced that the Masked Gentleman had hired actors dressed in medieval costumes to carry out one of his dark miracles,” Wilbur says. “We were just wondering…”

“No one from this circus has any connection with that masked bastard, I’ll have you know,” Tyrone huffs. “If that is all you need-”

“Is there anyone who can back your statement up?” Wilbur asks quickly. Tyrone’s utter dismissal of his concerns is alarming. Could Wilbur have been right? Are the circus performers under the thumb of the Masked Gentleman?

“Everyone would tell you the same thing.” Tyrone folds his arms, rising to his full height. “Even Maurice.”

“Maurice?”

“Maurice the tiger,” Tyrone says, jerking his chin at a cage at the far end of the tent. Within the cage sits a sleepy tiger, staring at them with an animalistic sort of curiosity. “The owner’s favourite pet, I’d say.”

“The owner?” Wilbur asks.

“Mr Punz,” Tyrone says. “He owns this circus, he does.”

“And you say that Maurice would tell us the same thing? That the circus is uninvolved in the dark miracles?”

Tyrone furrows his brows. “What are you getting at?”

If there is one thing about Tommy that Wilbur has learned from their adventure back in Misthallery, it is that Tommy has a unique gift. He can speak the tongue of animals.

Tommy catches Wilbur’s eye.

“I’ve never spoken to a tiger, Wilbur.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Puffy says good-naturedly.

“Surely, you don’t mean-” Tyrone’s voice is tight, patience wearing thin. “Humans can’t talk to animals!”

“Well, Tommy can,” Wilbur says. “If Maurice may corroborate your story, then we will be convinced.”

Tyrone’s eyes are bulging, regarding them as if they are madmen, and perhaps they probably are. Tommy edges over to the docile tiger and begins to speak with him.

“Really?” Tommy mutters.

“What is it?” Puffy asks.

“It has a puzzle it needs solving before it can help us.”

Like master, like pet, Wilbur thinks. “You can solve this one, Tommy,” Wilbur says. “Put that brain of yours to work.”

[ ** <Puzzle: Floor Seats> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g)

[ ](https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle:Floor_Seats?file=MM049.png)

Miss A is complaining about the seat she had for last night’s play.

  * “The five of us sat in a row, with me in the middle. Talk about a fifth wheel!
  * “Of course, I got stuck behind some oaf in a top hat. I could hardly see the stage!
  * “There were four seats between me and the aisle to my right. I needed the loo, but I didn’t dare make a fuss!
  * “Since my view was blocked, I took to looking at my ticket and noticed the seat number and the row number were two apart.”



Where was Miss A sitting?

“Row six, seat four,” Tommy says.

[Maurice](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHpmHZb8OzI) growls with satisfaction. Tommy nods as Maurice tells him his story in bursts of grunts and snarls.

“Okay, so Maurice says that last night, Punz was here at the circus,” Tommy says. “And the circus actually had a performance.”

“So they could not have been involved in the petrification incident,” Wilbur says. “What about the day when the paintings came to life?”

Tommy relays Wilbur’s question to Maurice, who answers in yet another series of growls.

“He says that they were busy preparing for a performance,” Tommy says.

“That means that the circus performers couldn’t have helped the Masked Gentleman,” Puffy says.

“As I had been saying,” Tyrone says.

“But that also proves Punz’s innocence,” Wilbur says. “He could not have been the Masked Gentleman if he had been here during the dark miracle.”

Maurice whines.

Wilbur turns to Tyrone. “Thank you for your assistance. You have been especially helpful in our search.”

“No hard feelings,” Tyrone says, trying hard to keep the bitterness from his voice. “Maybe you can watch a performance or two at night, yeah?”

Wilbur shrugs, turning to leave. When he leaves the tent, however, he notices the orangey hue of the clouds. The sky is darkening, the sun sinking beneath the horizon, beyond the tall cliff walls that surround Monte d’Or.

“It’s evening,” Tommy says. His stomach rumbles.

“Let us grab some dinner, then we’ll head on over to Gallery Plaza,” Wilbur says. He had almost forgotten about it, the Masked Gentleman’s invitation to his new dark miracle that would take place tonight.

Tommy looks relieved at that, and Puffy is immediately on her phone, checking out eateries nearby.

Wilbur can only hope that the Masked Gentleman would not appear before they arrive. They _are_ his esteemed guests, after all, if the Masked Gentleman bothered to send them a personal letter.

*

[Bellies](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BwuBH5o74Ks) full and in high spirits, the trio heads on over to the Gallery Plaza. The art museum stands imposingly in the distance. There is a sizeable crowd gathered, but Wilbur spots a familiar man amongst them.

“Punz!” Wilbur jostles past the crowd, walking up to the man. Punz turns around, not even raising a brow at Wilbur’s presence.

“Glad to see you could make it,” Punz says.

Wilbur adjusts his coat on his shoulders as he peers around him. Other than the chattering onlookers, bright lights and colourful storefronts crowding out the night sky, he cannot see-

“Five, six, seven, eight. No one can escape their fate.”

The booming voice of the Masked Gentleman reaches every single corner of the Gallery Plaza. Tommy bumps into him, expression as frantic as Wilbur feels. Wilbur glances from roof to roof, a single question in his head. Where is he?

[Several](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jy1VysToW4c) people begin to point to a figure in the sky, gasps muffled behind their hands. Wilbur follows their fingers, squinting against the terrible, glitzy lights.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to tonight’s dark miracle!” the Masked Gentleman says. “I hope you will enjoy this performance as much as you had the past few days.”

The plaza remains silent, save for a group of screaming fans right in front of the art museum. Wilbur scrunches his nose up in disgust. How can anyone idolize this…this terrorist?

“How is he doing that?” Puffy cries.

The Masked Gentleman walks on thin air, cane held across his chest as he goes. He reaches the roof of the art museum and spreads his arms, green cloak flowing behind him.

“Now, let the dark miracle begin!”

As if on cue, the man beside Wilbur begins to rise, gradually lifted into the air. He screams, limbs flailing as his body defies gravity. All around them, people begin to float into the air. A woman’s cap flies off her head, and a child drops their teddy bear.

They get higher and higher, until Wilbur can no longer see them, having vanished into the darkness.

“What in the world!” Punz grasps Wilbur’s shoulder. “How did he do that?”

“Well,” Wilbur says absently. It is possible to explain away their floating into the air, but the fact that they have simply vanished from sight…

“Tomorrow! I will be performing the next instalment in this thrilling series.” the Masked Gentleman says. “It will take place at Pumpkin Park as soon as the moon rises.”

He leaps into the air, twirling his cane as he flies, cloak billowing in the wind.

“The only way to break this curse and avoid the ruin of Monte d’Or is for a brave soul to present to me the Mask of Order,” the Masked Gentleman says. “Well then, I will see you soon, my adoring fans!”

Just like the people he abducted, the Masked Gentleman disappears, blending in with the black of night. Wilbur watches him go, thoughts going a mile a minute. The Masked Gentleman is…why does he seem so familiar?

Before Wilbur can continue with his train of thoughts, a booming voice echoes throughout the plaza.

[“Freeze!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BwuBH5o74Ks) Hands up wherever you’re standing, Luke Punz!”

Punz’s eyes widen as members of the audience are shoved aside, police officers enclosing them in a circle, batons out.

“What in the world is happening here?” Punz growls.

“Give it up, Punz!” Ponk’s voice can he heard from over the din. “You are under arrest for causing mayhem and terrorism in the city of Monte d’Or!”

Inspector Sheffield stands with the officers, accompanied by Frost and Ponk.

“Surely not!” Tommy looks up at Wilbur with a certain sort of urgency in his eyes. “Isn’t Punz…”

“The police doesn’t know that,” Wilbur says, narrowing his eyes. Just what could have prompted them to take such rash action?

“Professor Soot and friends, please step aside,” Frost says, gesturing to the spot beside him. “We have business with Mr Punz, and Mr Punz alone.”

“This is madness!” Punz shouts. “On what basis are you-”

Punz stops short. Wilbur seems to have noticed as well: the lone figure treated like royalty. The officers part to let him past, and he moves to stand with the inspectors.

Punz clenches his fists. “I should have known you were behind this.”

Sapnap regards Punz with an uninterested expression, arms folded. “I can’t have ruffians destroying Monte d’Or, Punz. I hope you understand.”

“This is all part of your plan, isn’t it?” Punz snarls. “Sapnap?”

Sapnap says nothing.

“No, it was all George’s plan,” Punz says, shaking his head as metal cuffs are slapped onto his wrists. “ _You_ were the one who made Dream go into the ruins. After he died, you claimed his fortune and forced his boyfriend to marry you. George must have been real bitter with you, huh?”

The glint in Sapnap’s eye is nothing short of frightening. He does not speak as the police leads Punz away. He turns to Wilbur.

[“How’re](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSbheIypPtk) you doing?” Sapnap forces a smile. “It’s been a while, Wilbur.”

“It has,” Wilbur says. Neither reach for a handshake; Wilbur is not going to deny the thickness of the tension between them.

“You can go and…and enjoy the festivities now,” Sapnap says, gesturing to the attractions all about the town. “The Masked Gentleman has been caught and the issues have all been resolved. Monte d’Or doesn’t need you anymore.”

Wilbur bristles at that. “I will.”

Sapnap relaxes. He turns on his heels. “I’ll be going back now. I’ve got a city to run.”

With that, he leaves them be. Only Inspector Frost remains to escort Sapnap back to his estate. He tips his hat at Wilbur and company before trailing behind Sapnap like a lost puppy.

“Now what, Wilbur?” Tommy asks.

Wilbur exhales loudly. “Nothing. Not today, anyway. We’ll prove Punz’s innocence tomorrow.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Puffy asks.

The only way they know how. “We will head to Pumpkin Park tomorrow night. Today, we shall head back and get some much-needed rest.”

“You’re going to continue with the story?” Tommy asks.

Wilbur nods. Something is nagging at him. Something tells him that this painful story may help them in ways he can never imagine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzle(s) in this Chapter:  
> Tenth-Round Ace  
> Guess Stars  
> Puzzle Battle vs Masked Gentleman  
> King Arthur's Sword  
> Floor Seats


	5. George's Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> should dream go on his expedition...?

[“I don’t](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtW80AsHEMU&) understand,” George says, shaking his head. “What do you mean you’re going to use the Norwell Wall and…”

“Well, we can go tomorrow,” Dream says, “and you can see for yourself.”

Wilbur and George exchange glances. Clearly, this is something far bigger, far greater than what they had envisioned. From the sparkle of Dream’s eye to the way he practically prances about the room.

“No, but…” George fumbles for his words. “How did you find the Mask in the first place?”

“Oh, that? It’s easy,” Dream walks over to his wall of scribbles, gesturing to the lines of crimson upon the wood. He runs Wilbur and George through his thought process, moving from one deduction to the other, spouting phrases and jargon that Wilbur can hardly understand.

“And that’s where I knew where to dig,” Dream says, patting the handle of the shovel leaning against his desk. The shovel falls and clatters against the ground. Sapnap flinches at the sound.

“The box also contained a stone tablet with inscriptions,” Dream says, reaching into his drawer and retrieving said tablet. As Dream said, strange markings are engraved upon its surface. “If we match this with the markings on the Norwell Wall, then we’d be able to find the entrance to the Ruins of Akbadain.”

“What are you trying to say?” Wilbur furrows his brows.

“Wilbur! I thought that you of all people would get it,” Dream says, spreading his arms out, the very picture of genius, or madness. Wilbur does not know. “We’re going on an expedition. To discover what lies at the bottom of the Akbadain ruins!”

“I…” George starts, before sighing, knowing he cannot win against Dream’s enthusiasm.

“Meet me at the Norwell Wall tomorrow after school and you’ll know what I mean,” Dream says. “Now, I think it’s time for you to go, before anyone sees you guys.”

Dream throws the rope ladder over the edge of his windowsill, the clunky contraption unravelling. The last rung hits the grassy field below.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Wilbur says. He begins his descent, readily dismissing the sounds of snogging above his head from the window.

How Sapnap stands them is beyond his understanding.

Even so, Dream has Wilbur intrigued. Riches beyond their wildest desire…

Tomorrow. He will have to save the excitement for tomorrow.

*

[“Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GMzKMGWoPc&) it is,” Dream says, hands on his hips. He, George and Wilbur stand at the edge of the forested path that would take them all the way to the Norwell Wall. This is the only thing L’manburg is known for, attracting archaeologists and historians from all over the country.

The sun is hot, blazing down on their backs as they approach the gate.

George rattles the fence. “It’s locked.”

Dream frowns, staring at the clasp keeping the gate shut. “It’s a puzzle lock.”

[ ** <Puzzle: Clear Cut Contrasts> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g)

[ ](https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle:Clear-Cut_Contrasts?file=MM056.png)

This fancy black-and-white puzzle board is rather special. When you touch any square section on the board, its colour changes between black and white. At the moment, there is more white than black, and their goal is to make it such that there is more black than white. They can do so by touching the board just once.

Which square section should they touch?

“This one.” Dream touches the board, and the lock springs open. The fence opens with a creak.

[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GMzKMGWoPc&) has not entered the forest in ages. Only wilderness, and the Norwell Wall, lies behind the gate. Birds sing in the trees, and bushes rustle in the breeze.

Dream trudges onward, taking the lead. George nearly trips on a root as he climbs the hill. Wilbur keeps up the rear.

After a short climb, they reach a familiar wall, engraved with a mystifying block of text. Wilbur cannot read it – clearly, whoever wrote these must not have spoken English.

[Dream](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZ-8NT_fpUk&) reaches into his bag, retrieving the Mask and the stone tablet. George joins him at the Wall, while Wilbur finds a nice rock to settle on. He wonders for a moment where Sapnap has gone. Perhaps he has other matters to attend to at home, more important than whatever Dream has got going on.

“I’ve got it,” Dream says, pumping a fist in the air in a pure “Eureka!” moment. Wilbur blinks. That was fast. He barely had time to warm the rock. “I know where we must go.”

“Where?” George asks, intrigued.

“You know Foolish Desert not far from here? That huge bowl?” Dream says.

George sighs. “I don’t go out to the desert much, Dream.”

“Trust me on this,” Dream says. He pulls out a map from his backpack – when did he get that? – and spreads it out on the ground. Wilbur recognizes the topography. So that is Foolish Desert, lying just east of L’manburg, the bowl in its middle forming nearly a complete circle. Dream stabs a finger at a scrawled circle in the middle of the bowl. “This is where the entrance of the ruins is.”

“And you intend to go in?” Wilbur asks.

Dream shoots him a deadpan look. “Of course not. I’m going to stay here and be a boring businessman.”

“But isn’t it dangerous?” George protests. “Dream, you can’t be running off and putting your life in danger like that.”

“This would be the find of a century, hell, of a lifetime!” The disappointment in Dream’s voice is obvious.

“The find of a century?” George snaps, shaking his head. “You’re joking. You’re absolutely joking. There is no way that you intend to-”

“George?” Confusion crosses Dream’s features.

“You want to just up and leave and go into some dangerous place…”

“It’s only dangerous if we’re not prepared,” Dream says, the excitement returning to his voice. “We’re going to pack tonight, and we’ll set out tomorrow.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“What? No,” Dream stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I can’t let you venture somewhere so…so…” He gestures at nothing, the frustration clear in his tone.

“Then what about you? You think I’m going to let you go into those ruins by yourself?” George runs a hand through his hair.

“But George-”

“You know what? You’re selfish, Dream.” George’s breaths are heavy. Wilbur stands dutifully to the side. Should he step in? Or should he-

Before Wilbur can continue to deliberate, George snatches the Mask from Dream’s hands, taking off down the mountain path. Wilbur watches as he goes. Well, that settles that.

“George! Come back!” Dream gathers up his things, tucking the remaining stone tablet under his arm. “That Mask-”

“Maybe,” Wilbur says, clapping a hand on Dream’s shoulder, stopping his friend in his tracks, “you should consider George’s feelings. Just once.”

Dream opens his mouth, seeming ready to rebut that statement, but he shuts it again. He turns his gaze to the ground. With slumped shoulders, he is the very picture of regret.

“I’ve been a…a shitty boyfriend, haven’t I?” Dream sighs.

Wilbur shrugs. “That’s for you to decide, but you’re going to have to work things out with George.”

“He _did_ take my Mask,” Dream says, nodding. “Come on, let’s go look for him.”

Wilbur watches as Dream stumbles, making after George. Wilbur trails behind him. In Dream’s brilliance, like a shining torch in the night, Wilbur feels second-class. No matter how hard he tries, he certainly cannot match up to the intellect carefully cultivated after so many years.

At the same time, no matter how bright Dream may be, nothing can quite replace the power of the human heart.

*

[“George!”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtW80AsHEMU&)

The sun is barely visible by the time Dream and Wilbur find their friend, seated with his back to a tree at the creek near Dream’s estate, staring at the Mask with pure contempt. George does not even respond to his name.

“George,” Dream repeats, quieter this time, kneeling in front of his boyfriend. “George. Hey.”

When George looks up, all Wilbur notices is the shimmer of his eyes, brimming with unshed tears. Dream stiffens. George dips his head once more, wiping at his eyes.

“Sorry.” Dream says, a hand on George’s, gently prying the Mask from his fingers. George lets him, curling even further into himself as his chest convulses with silent sobs. “I’m sorry about blowing up and…um…”

“So you’re not going to go?” George gasps. There is hope, Wilbur thinks. A misplaced hope.

“W-Well, I…” Dream bites his lip, tightening his grip on the Mask. “This will be my last expedition, I swear. I’ll be back before you know it, and then we can go for that picnic. With Sapnap and Wilbur.”

“You’re the same as my brother,” George chokes out. “That’s what he said before he disappeared for good too!”

Disappeared for good. George’s reaction is entirely understandable. If something were to happen to Dream in those ruins… Wilbur catches Dream’s eye, peering helplessly up at him.

“I think you should have faith in Dream, George.”

A familiar voice speaks from the direction of Dream’s estate. A boy walks up to them, white headband flowing in the wind.

“Sapnap,” Dream starts.

“I know Dream,” Sapnap says, stepping over. “I know he will return, because he’s Dream. And besides, he did say that this is going to be his final expedition.”

George turns to Dream, eyes still red, cheeks still blotchy. “Really? You promise?”

Dream thumps a fist against his chest. “Of course. After this, I promise I won’t go to, um, any more digs or anything. Not until after I get my degree.”

“Oh.” George does not seem too thrilled by the prospect, but he nods. “I think that’s for the best.”

Dream grins, throwing his arms around George, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

Wilbur turns to Sapnap. “Do you really think so?”

“Dream’s been my friend since we were kids,” Sapnap says. “He’s a pretty capable guy.”

Well, if Sapnap says so.

“Alright, Wilbur, let’s get packing,” Dream says. “Tomorrow, we’re going straight into the ruins!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzle(s) in this Chapter:  
> Clear Cut Contrasts


	6. Miracles Unmasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> doing more investigation

[“Professor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBT_79RYNp4&) Soot!”

The officer standing guard at the entrance salutes him as they approach. Wilbur nods in acknowledgement. Tommy and Puffy pad behind him.

“Are the Inspectors done with Punz?”

“I…I will have to check,” the officer says. “Please wait here.”

With that, he marches in, leaving the other officer to entertain them.

“While we wait for him to come back,” the officer says. “How would you like to try a puzzle?”

[ ** <Puzzle: A Muddy Mess> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g&)

This is a bridge at the side of a river. The ground is all muddy, so you can see the footprints left by all the people who have been here recently. None of them seem to have had the same footwear.

How many people crossed the bridge?

“This one is easy if you know where to look. There were only two people,” Wilbur says.

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Chac6DhaYJE&) officer nods in delight, just as the first officer returns. He beckons them to follow him.

“In here,” the officer says, nudging a door open. Wilbur enters, and finds Punz seated at a desk in the middle of the room, where Sheffield appears to be questioning him.

“I told you, I’m not the Masked Gentleman!” Punz barely notices their presences. “It’s either Sapnap or George!”

“Aw, cut the nonsense,” Sheffield huffs, slamming his fist on the desk. “Now tell me how you did it! The faster you do this, the quicker we can both be free of this torture.”

“Inspector Sheffield, if I may-” Wilbur starts, snapping Sheffield from his frustration.

“What is it, Soot?”

Wilbur hardens his gaze. “I believe that Punz is not the Masked Gentleman.”

Punz looks somewhat surprised. Sheffield scoffs.

“Do you have evidence, Professor?”

Well, that is where Sheffield has got them beat, perhaps. Their only piece of testimony comes from a tiger, of all things.

“Well, I do,” Sheffield says. “There were wheel tracks, Professor Soot. And Mr Punz is the only person in town who owns a private chariot.”

“Why would anyone own a private chariot?” Tommy whispers. Wilbur pointedly ignores him.

“So you’re saying that the wheel marks were made by Punz’s chariot?”

“Well, it’s the only likely scenario, innit?” Sheffield says. “No one else owns a cart or chariot in town-”

“There’s the racetrack.” Punz sniffs. “If Sapnap or George is the perpetrator, then they can use those carts.”

“Racetrack?” Wilbur asks.

“North of town,” Punz says.

Sheffield makes a shooing gesture at Wilbur. “It’s a massive waste of time. He’s just trying to throw you off his trail.”

Without sufficient, solid evidence, they are forced to retreat for now. However, their visit is not in vain. Now, they know exactly where they need to go next.

“You know what I think?” Tommy says, holding up a finger. “Mr Sapnap’s getting really, really suspicious.”

Wilbur shrugs. “I will…reserve judgement for now.”

He cannot quite believe that Sapnap would be behind this showy performance, no matter how he would like to draw tourists to the town. He just does not seem like that kind of person.

Just as Wilbur exits the police station, he bumps straight into Inspector Frost, who greets him with a smile and a tip of his hat.

“Professor,” Frost says in greeting.

“Good day, Inspector.” Wilbur pauses, noticing the inquiry in his expression. “Can I…help you?”

“[Well](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G51wMdl9qfc), I was wondering about the petrification incident from two days ago,” Frost says. Wilbur tilts his head, the gears turning in his brain for minutes, before remembering what Frost is talking about. He had solved it last night and so removed it from the forefront of his mind.

“What about it?” Puffy asks.

“I’d like to know what you think about it,” Frost asks, flashing her a smile.

“The execution was simple,” Wilbur says. “People could not have turned into stone. Working along that tangent, we must realize that the petrified ‘people’ left at the scene were none other than stone statues already crafted before the event.”

Frost nods. “I figured as much. However, what is really intriguing is how the statues got on the scene. They aren’t horses or people. You couldn’t set them loose from a dark alleyway.”

“Were you at the parade that night, Inspector?” Wilbur asks. Frost nods. “Then you must have noticed a most unusual balloon.”

“An unusual balloon?” Tommy asks. “What weird balloon?”

“It was a large clown which burst,” Wilbur says. “One thing that struck me was the fact that it was dragged on the ground, despite being lifted by a ton of other balloons.”

“So, what you mean to say is…” Frost starts, mouth agape.

“The stone statues were hidden in that balloon,” Wilbur says. “That is why it popped when it did.”

“Then all the statues spilled out,” Puffy says.

Wilbur shakes his head. “I doubt that was the case. Had they just spilled, most statues would have shattered upon hitting the floor.”

“But you said…” Tommy starts.

“The statues _were_ kept in the balloon before the miracle,” Wilbur says. “Just not in the way you imagine. Now, picture this: there was a horse-drawn cart in the balloon, which allowed the balloon to get towed along the ground, and yet allowed for the accomplices’ easy access to the statues to distribute them around Gallery Plaza. That is also why Inspector Sheffield came across cart tracks after the incident.”

“The Masked Gentleman made use of the crowd’s hysteria in order to perform his dark miracle,” Frost says. “In the heat of the moment, some statues will be knocked over, some won’t. In the end, all that will be left is evidence of the crowd’s frenzy.” Frost claps. “Impressive, Professor Soot. What about yesterday’s dark miracle, then?”

Wilbur frowns, mouth drying. “That, I…I regret that I do not have enough information. I can explain how the people were lifted into the air, but not how they disappeared.”

“Well, I’ve conducted my own investigation just earlier, and as it turns out, Madam Lapushka has had recently sold dark cloths for an anonymous client,” Frost says.

“Dark cloths, you say?” Wilbur’s lips twitch. That had been the missing puzzle all along. So that was how the Masked Gentleman did it.

Frost hums.

“What does that mean, Wilbur?” Tommy asks.

“It means,” Wilbur says, “that I know how the trick was accomplished.”

“First, how they were lifted into the air,” Frost says. “Surely, the Masked Gentleman made use of a…a rope or something?”

“Clearly,” Wilbur says. “Thin-enough wires strong enough to lift people into the air, while being able to blend into the darkness at the same time.”

“But where were the wires attached?” Tommy asks.

“On a flying contraption, perhaps,” Wilbur says.

Frost shakes his head. “Not quite. I suspect that they were attached to wires strung up across the rooftops. Unfortunately, the equipment has since been removed.”

“It makes sense,” Wilbur says. “It would explain how the Masked Gentleman was able to walk in thin air as well.”

“He was walking on the wire?” Tommy asks.

“Precisely,” Wilbur says. “The Masked Gentleman walked on a set of wires strung up around Gallery Plaza, and some of these wires had contraptions attached to them, probably fitted with pulley systems, to lift the participants into the air when he needed them to.”

“There were people in the crowd who was privy to that trick, then?” Frost says.

Wilbur nods. “Identifying them would prove difficult, I believe.”

Frost holds up a hand. “That’s fine. I was just interested in whether we were on the same page regarding the dark miracles.”

“I see,” Wilbur says. “Shall we meet at Pumpkin Park tonight, then?”

Frost nods. “If all goes well.”

With that, he strides into the police station.

“What’s up with that guy?” Tommy wonders. “He’s cryptic as hell, Wilbur.”

Wilbur shrugs the strange nagging sense of suspicion as he turns. “It’s much too soon to tell. Let us head on over to the racetrack.”

*

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBYv5x9IUK8) racetrack is buzzing with activity when the trio reaches. Horses are galloping, people are cheering and waving tickets. The horses spray dirt with every clop of their hooves.

“It’s really crowded,” Tommy comments, glancing around.

“Yeah,” Puffy says. “Now I’ve got the urge to bet.”

“Bet? On what?” Tommy furrows his brows.

“No betting,” Wilbur says. “Investigation first. We have to find the owner of this racetrack.”

The last half of Wilbur’s sentence is drowned out by the explosion of joyful cheers and outraged screeches. It is much too loud here, just like everywhere else in Monte d’Or.

Finding the owner of the racetrack is not difficult, especially since people seem very accommodating to his requests as soon as they realize that he is _the_ Professor Soot. Again, Wilbur is not sure what to think about this pervasive lack of privacy.

The owner stands outside a shed, speaking with one of the jockeys as Wilbur, Tommy and Puffy approach. He dismisses the jockey, and the man skips off.

“Excuse me,” Wilbur says. “Are you the owner of this humble racetrack?”

“I run it,” the man says. “This racetrack is owned by Mr Sapnap.”

“I see,” Wilbur says. “I work with the police in pursuing the Masked Gentleman. On that note, I would like to ask you about the horse-drawn carts that are the property of this racetrack.”

“Of course, of course,” the man says. “Would you like to see it? They are in this shed.” He walks over to the shed’s large shutters, attempting to lift it. However, the shutters will not budge, noisy rattle drowning out the man’s frustrated grunts.

“It’s locked,” Puffy says, squatting. “A…a puzzle lock.”

[ ** <Puzzle: A Trip to the Hospital> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g&)

A man went to visit his friend in the hospital. He got 500 metres from his front door before he remembered that he wanted some flowers. He went back to the flower shop and continued to the hospital. The flower shop is on a straight line between his house and the hospital, 800 metres from the hospital. Afterward, the man walked straight home on the same road.

How many metres did he walk between leaving home and returning?

“It’s…” Wilbur glances up at the sky, before dropping his gaze just as quickly. “2600 metres.”

The man inputs the number into the number lock and the lock springs open. The shutters now slide easily into the ceiling of the doorway, allowing them entrance into the dusty shed.

[All](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBYv5x9IUK8) sorts of horse-racing apparatus lie about, from saddles to gear to the carts that Wilbur wanted to investigate. Tommy sizes one up, a red-and-white vehicle held together by wooden screws and bolts. Rather flimsy in design, Wilbur thinks.

“These carts,” Wilbur says, gesturing at the cart that Tommy is currently inspecting. “Has anyone rented one recently?”

“Well, we can’t… _rent_ them out,” the man says, fingers clasped in front of him. “The carts don’t usually leave the racetrack unless they are due for repairs.”

“For repairs, you say? Is there a certain protocol to be followed?”

“Why yes,” the man says, nodding enthusiastically. “Carts may only be removed upon Mr Sapnap’s approval. He’s the one who signs the removal form.”

“I see,” Wilbur says. “Has any of these carts been removed in the past few days?”

“As a matter of fact, one of it has,” the man says, pointing to the red-and-white one. “This cart was sent out two days ago.”

Two days ago! The night of the petrification incident. That lines up with Wilbur’s theory that a cart was used to transport the statues. Had the Masked Gentleman intended to frame Punz?

If that is the case, then the person who authorised the removal of the cart from the premises is…

It appears that some interrogation is in order.

“Thank you for your help,” Wilbur says. “Your assistance has been invaluable.”

They leave the racetrack with more questions than answers. If Punz is not the Masked Gentleman, then the only other person it most likely is must be…

“Where are we going?” Tommy asks.

“To George’s estate,” Wilbur says. “I need to speak to Sapnap.”

*

[This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSbheIypPtk) time, it is Sapnap who welcomes them in.

“Wilbur? What are you doing here?”

“I have a couple of questions,” Wilbur says, “pertaining to the investigation on the Masked Gentleman.”

Sapnap laughs. “The Masked Gentleman has already been apprehended, Wilbur.”

“Then think of it as a friendly chat over tea,” Wilbur says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “We haven’t spoken to each other at leisure for a while, Sapnap.”

Sapnap nods. “I suppose not.” He makes a sweeping gesture. “Come on in.”

A maid seats them at the drawing room once more, Wilbur sinking into the fluffy couch, his usual spot by the window. Sapnap returns quickly with a tray of tea. It feels almost like old times, when Sapnap would bring tea and crumpets up to Dream’s bedroom when he became too engrossed in his research (and dragged Wilbur and George into it, no less).

Sapnap pours the tea, and Tommy seizes it immediately, gulping down the lukewarm liquid. Sapnap settles on the plush armchair opposite Wilbur. Wilbur is not letting Sapnap’s relaxed demeanour fool him. The man is guarded, from the tightness of his smile to the steel in his gaze.

“So, how have you been finding Monte d’Or, Wilbur?” Sapnap asks.

“Wonderful. A lovely town,” Wilbur says with a wave. “Tommy and Puffy have been enjoying it especially.”

“It’s great,” Puffy says, placing her empty china cup back onto the saucer.

“Glad to hear that,” Sapnap says.

“Now, Sapnap,” Wilbur says, leaning forward. “I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

Sapnap stiffens visibly. “What about?”

Wilbur holds up two fingers. “Two days ago, people had been turned to stone before our very eyes, as part of the dark miracle.”

“It was a tragedy. It shouldn’t have happened in Monte d’Or.”

“It was nothing more than a parlour trick,” Wilbur says seriously. “The Gentleman merely hired associates to distribute statues all over the Gallery Plaza. No one was injured, but the effect was achieved.”

“You mean to say…”

“The interesting bit is when we were realizing just how the trick was performed,” Wilbur says. “We had deduced from the available evidence that the Masked Gentleman’s associates had made use of a cart in order to transport the statues efficiently.”

“Isn’t that why we arrested Punz too?” Sapnap asks with a nervous chuckle. “He’s the only one who owns a private chariot.”

[“That](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MiQlrk3NmNI&) may be so, but there is another facility where one may obtain a cart,” Wilbur says. “And that is the racetrack.”

Sapnap leans forward. “What are you implying?”

Wilbur does not waver. “You know what I’m implying, Sapnap. If a cart is to be removed from the racetrack, you must have authorised it. If that very same cart was to be used in one of the dark miracles…”

“Then I must be the Masked Gentleman?” Sapnap’s voice is low, simmering with unspoken rage.

Wilbur shrugs.

“You dare to suggest that I would wrack havoc on my own city,” Sapnap says. “For what? Financial gain? Monte d’Or is my pride and joy, Wilbur. You can never understand all the work me and George put into building it up to what it is now.”

“Sapnap, the evidence…”

“To hell with your evidence.” Sapnap rises. “We’re done here, Wilbur. I should have known there’s no compassion from a man who abandoned his friends.”

The room is met with silence. Wilbur merely stands, feet shuffling on the carpet as he turns.

“Wilbur?” Tommy starts. He rises as well.

“It’s time to leave. We have nothing more to discuss,” Wilbur says.

With that, he strides out of the manor without so much as a farewell. He vaguely hears Puffy apologizing in his stead. He is hollow, an empty shell of the boy he once was.

Sapnap’s words should not have brought those emotions surging back. Not the emotions he spent so long squashing like bugs beneath his soles.

*

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byItBwdnsHw) sun began to set once more; their third day in Monte d’Or is coming to an end. With the rise of the moon, the Masked Gentleman would make his appearance. At Pumpkin Park, he said. The amusement park at the north of town.

Pumpkin Park is hardly deserted. There are so many people there, queueing for tickets, a crowd crammed at the entrance gantries. Are they here to see the Masked Gentleman as well? At this point, he has become nothing more than a theatrical farce, in Wilbur’s eyes.

“Do we get to play on the rides, Wilbur?” Tommy asks, eyes sparkling at the rollercoasters and the massive Ferris Wheel.

“You can get on the merry-go-round,” Wilbur says nonchalantly as he queues to buy tickets. Meanwhile, Puffy has gone over to a nearby food cart, ordering what appears to be hotdogs and corn cobs.

Despite the snaking queue, Wilbur manages to get the tickets in record time. Puffy hands him his share of the food and together, they enter the amusement park.

Wilbur catches sight of familiar faces as he walks. Juggles, Tyrone, Cookie and her mother, Artie…

Everyone seems to be gathered to witness the next dark miracle.

“Wilbur, look!”

Tommy squats, picking something up from the ground beside the Ferris Wheel. Adorned on the back of the card is a symbol, one that depicts the Mask of Chaos. No doubt this must belong to the Masked Gentleman.

Were _they_ supposed to find it?

Tommy turns it around, and finds a message written on them on its back.

“The remaining cards scattered around Pumpkin Park will lead you to me. I’ll wait for you eagerly. Signed, the Masked Gentleman,” Puffy says.

“The remaining cards, huh?” Tommy says, stashing the card away into his satchel. “Where’d you reckon they’d be?”

Puffy glances around, taking a bite out of her hotdog bun. “What about the rides? Like, we have to get on a specific carriage of the rollercoaster or something?”

It is a valid suggestion. After all, the Masked Gentleman seems rather…attention-seeking, if Wilbur is being entirely honest. Wilbur glances over at the various attractions. There is no time to start like now.

*

“Found one!”

Puffy snatches the poster hidden behind the horror house. This is the third one that they have found, the other being at the base of the Ferris Wheel.

“A place that spins and spins and…spins,” Tommy reads from the card. “Isn’t this that spinning pumpkins ride?”

Wilbur shrugs. There is no harm in checking it out.

The pumpkin spinners lie nearer the entrance than the haunted house. It takes several rounds of inspection as people get on and off the rides, but eventually, Tommy does notice the card being stuck to one of the pumpkins.

“We’re going to have to get on it, don’t we?” Tommy says. He does not even attempt to disguise the trepidation in his voice.

“For the sake of the investigation,” Wilbur says. “You and Puffy can have fun.”

“You’re not coming?”

Wilbur shoots him a bored look.

“Aw, come on. Don’t be a spoilsport,” Puffy says, grabbing at his arm. “It’s just a two-minute ride.”

“It’s _childish_.”

“Tommy, I’m gonna need you to go get in the line first,” Puffy says, making a shooing gesture at him. “I’m gonna convince this party pooper.”

Wilbur bristles. “I’m not a party pooper.”

Tommy salutes her and heads on over to the end of the growing line.

“Look,” Puffy says, her voice lowered as soon as Tommy is gone. Wilbur can sense the seriousness in her voice now. “I know what you’re thinking, and _I_ , for one, don’t think you abandoned your friends, at all.”

“Well…”

“You became an archaeologist and got into puzzles, and you came whizzing down to Monte d’Or the second you saw George’s letter,” Puffy says gently.

Why is Puffy so inquisitive? And Wilbur thought he hid it well, that hole in his heart.

“I don’t think Tommy thinks any less of you either,” Puffy says. “After all, you saved his hometown.”

Wilbur stares at the ground. Never before has he been stripped bare like this, as if Puffy has managed to smash all those walls he has erected. As if she has dragged his deepest, most guarded emotions from the depths of the shell he has carved.

“How does one ride sound?” Puffy asks, gesturing at the spinning pumpkins. “If you really hate it, then I guess-”

“No, it’s fine,” Wilbur says with a sigh. “Just one ride.”

Puffy beams. She and Wilbur join Tommy in the queue, much to the chagrin of people behind them and to Tommy’s relief.

Puffy is probably right. A change of pace may be good for him after all.

*

Wilbur rips the card from the side of the pumpkin, stepping off the ride and back out onto the busy grounds of the amusement park. Tommy clings to him with the dizziest expression on his face. They find a bench for Tommy to sit and regain his composure, while Wilbur looks over the card he has just received.

“To the tower at the furthest end of the park,” Wilbur reads. “There you shall go, and there we shall meet.”

“The tower at the furthest end of the park?” Puffy wonders, uncapping a bottle of water she bought from a nearby drink stall and handing it to Tommy, who gulps it down gratefully.

“I believe that’s the one,” Wilbur says, gesturing to a tower in the distance, beyond the Ferris Wheel. It looks just like a castle, one straight out of a fairy tale. It has a dome for a roof, sparkly and colourful, walls gleaming in the moonlight.

“Shall we head over there, then?” Puffy glances over at Tommy. “You okay?”

Tommy holds up a hand.

“It’s just a spinning teacups ride.”

“Don’t…Don’t make me knife you, lady.”

Puffy laughs. She helps Tommy to his feet.

“Wilbur!”

Wilbur hears a familiar voice from behind him. He whirls around, finding Sapnap and George jogging up to him. What are they doing here?

“Sapnap told me what happened,” George says, a hand on his chest as he catches his breath. “And, um…”

Sapnap looks almost bashful, scratching his head. “I’m…” He sighs. “I’m sorry. About what I said. I was…mad, I guess, and I just wanted to take the frustration out on someone. It’s no excuse, it’s just…”

“I’d like to say I’m sorry too.”

Sapnap blinks. “Huh?”

It is hard to vocalize an apology, Wilbur thinks. Especially since he is a rather prideful man. Still, this is Sapnap, and George. People he knew for a long time now.

“For storming out on you like that,” Wilbur says, gazing at the ground. “And for making assumptions. I just…”

George laughs. “Man, you guys are really…” He trails off, grabbing hold of Sapnap and Wilbur’s hands, forcing them to shake hands. “There. Friends again.”

A second of silence passes before Wilbur and Sapnap laugh. What a way to reconcile.

“Oh, right, the more important thing,” George says, cutting in. “You guys are here for the Masked Gentleman too, right?”

“Well, he left these cards all over the park,” Puffy says, holding up the glossy paper. “It’s like a treasure hunt. Now he wants us to go to the tower.”

“Topsy Tower?” Sapnap wonders, glancing over at George for confirmation. George nods.

“That one?” Tommy gestures at the sparkly tower.

“Yeah. Northernmost part of the park,” Sapnap says, already taking off. “Come on, let’s go.”

With no time to lose, the group rushes over to the tower. The Masked Gentleman is bound to appear anytime soon. They have to intercept his dark miracle before he can carry it out.

*

Topsy Tower lies a distance from the main attractions of the park, accessible only by authorised personnel, including Sapnap, who appears to be the owner. The dense canopies of trees block out most of the moonlight.

Tommy yelps as he trips on a root. Wilbur steadies him with a swift grasp of his arm.

[George](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jy1VysToW4c&) is the first one to reach the tower, clambering over a fallen log, halting right at its entrance. Sitting with his legs dangling from the dome of the tower, the Masked Gentleman watches them. He twirls his cane, rising to his feet at Wilbur’s arrival.

“I see you have answered my call,” the Masked Gentleman says. “I must say, I’m touched.”

“Stop this at once, Masked Gentleman,” Sapnap shouts. “What do you want with Monte d’Or?”

“What do I want?” The Masked Gentleman sounds amused. He leaps from the wall, landing deftly on the ground. The sheen of the wire around his arms is obvious, gleaming in the moonlight. Wilbur had been right. “I want this city razed to the ground, my dear Sapnap.”

“Razed to the ground? You can’t be serious!” Puffy cries.

“Blasphemous,” Wilbur agrees. “Why don’t you show us your face, Masked Gentleman? Or are you too scared?”

The Masked Gentleman chuckles. “I don’t give in so easily to that kind of goading, Wilbur Soot.”

“How’d you…” Wilbur furrows his brows. Knowing Sapnap’s name is not a big deal, since he is a bit of a hotshot in Monte d’Or, but knowing Wilbur’s name?

“I know more than you think I do,” the Masked Gentleman says with a laugh. “And now, it’s time for tonight’s dark miracle!”

The Masked Gentleman moves so fast that Wilbur has no time to respond. He dashes forth, green cloak flowing behind him, and scoops George up into his arms.

“George!” Sapnap makes a grab for his husband, but the Masked Gentleman dashes into the tower, too quickly for even Puffy to catch. The door to the tower slams behind him.

“What is this tower for, Sapnap?” Wilbur asks.

“It’s an electrical tower,” Sapnap says. “For the attractions and everything. I don’t know what the fuck the Masked Gentleman wants with George but-”

“What are we waiting for? Come on!” Puffy shouts, ramming her shoulder into the door.

“It’s locked!” Tommy points at a gadget on the wall. This is no time for a puzzle lock!

[ ** <Puzzle: Settle the Scores> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g)

[ ](https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle:Settle_the_Scores?file=MM083.png)

In this particular dartboard, it has four concentric circles, A, B, C and D, with A being the smallest and D being the biggest. Three darts players have just finished a game, with the results as shown:

Person One scored 25 points, with 1 dart in A, 1 dart in B, 1 dart in C and 1 dart in D.

Person Two scored 26 points, with 2 darts in A and 2 darts in D.

Person Three scored 22 points, with 1 dart in B and 3 darts in C.

No two sections have the same value, and their values increase the closer they are to the centre. Each is worth a single-digit value of at least one point. Can you work out how many points each section of the dartboard is worth?

“Well, A has to be nine, B is seven, C is five and D is four,” Wilbur says. Puffy’s fingers move deftly, snapping the numbers of the lock in place. With a click, the lock is disengaged and the doors swing open.

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jy1VysToW4c&) four of them enter the tower. As soon as the last person is through, the doors slam shut, bathing them in pure darkness. The tower clanks, and for a moment, a sense of light-headedness assaults Wilbur as he staggers.

As suddenly as it began, however, the dizziness is gone.

“And now, I shall present my next dark miracle.” The Masked Gentleman’s voice booms around them, echoing in the dark recesses of the tower. “Why don’t you go outside and see what I have prepared for my very special audience?”

Puffy kicks the doors open, revealing the dark forest path. Wilbur steps out, accompanied by Tommy and Sapnap, making a beeline to the park. Puffy has gone ahead, freezing when she reaches the main area.

It is much too quiet, Wilbur thinks, as he approaches. What greets him is nothing like he would ever expect.

The entire crowd has vanished in the blink of an eye. The Ferris Wheel, the spinning pumpkins, the rollercoasters… They are all empty, yet the rides are still turning! What happened? Where _is_ everyone?

“I don’t believe this…” Wilbur mumbles.

“Wilbur?” Tommy glances over uncertainly. “Why did everyone just disappear like that?”

Why indeed?

“Behold my dark miracle,” the Masked Gentleman says. Wilbur spins on his heels, finding the Masked Gentleman standing behind them. He brandishes his cane, the other hand on George’s wrist. “Impressed?”

“Bring everyone back now!” Sapnap takes a threatening step forward, but the Masked Gentleman merely wraps an arm around George’s throat.

“I wouldn’t try anything funny if I were you,” the Masked Man sings.

A heartbeat of silence passes between them.

The Masked Gentleman laughs. He shoves at George, sending him stumbling forward into Sapnap’s arms.

“Well now,” the Masked Gentleman says. “It’s time for me to go. Thank you for coming to my dark miracle tonight!”

With that, he floats into the sky, suspended from the wires stretched above their heads.

“Tomorrow’s dark miracle will be the grand finale,” the Masked Gentleman says. “This one miracle to end all miracles can be seen from all around town!”

“Come on! He’s getting away!” Tommy is the first to sprint back to the tower where they came.

It could be Wilbur’s imagination, but there seems to be a severe lack of roots on the path.

The five of them re-enter the tower and are once more plunged into darkness. The same disorienting sensation washes over Wilbur. He reaches blindly for the wall to steady himself, only to be met with thin air.

When the giddiness fades, Wilbur makes for the door. The moment he is out of that tower, he is greeted again with the same forest route, the shadows of trees rendering the night even gloomier.

[When](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byItBwdnsHw&) the fivesome returns down the path, they come back to Pumpkin Park. The Pumpkin Park that is full of people, filled with laughter and excitement as they continue to wait for the promised dark miracle eagerly.

Except, _they_ were the dark miracle.

What is strange, Wilbur thinks, is the fact that none of them seem to have noticed that they had disappeared. How…how can this be?

“Puffy! Professor!”

A familiar man runs up to them, trench coat trailing behind him. Ponk bends forward, catching his breath as he addresses them.

“The Masked Gentleman…did you see him?” Ponk asks between gasps of air.

“I…” Puffy tilts her head, folding her arms. “Well, he _did_ appear. That’s for sure.”

“Wait, so the dark miracle…”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, Inspector,” Wilbur says, stepping over. “But you were part of the dark miracle.”

Ponk looks dumbfounded. “What do you mean? But I didn’t…”

“Nothing feels strange, Inspector?” Wilbur asks, raising a brow. “Nothing like the fact that you had vanished? If even for an instant?”

Ponk stares at him like he is insane. “What? Are you saying I vanished?”

“It’s clear the Inspector doesn’t know anything,” Sapnap says. “Do you think the Masked Gentleman made the people disappear without…”

Perhaps it is time to step back and take stock of the information. There should be enough evidence on hand to figure out the trick behind the dark miracle. However, the more Wilbur tries to force his brain to think, to work against the odds, the more it fights back with throbbing aches.

“The Masked Gentleman said that he would execute his final miracle tomorrow,” George says. “And that we can see it from anywhere in town.”

“Is he going to do it high in the sky?” Tommy asks.

“What’s this about tomorrow’s dark miracle?” Ponk asks. “He hasn’t even performed _tonight_ _’_ _s_ dark miracle.” Wilbur would have laughed if not for his exhaustion. It is as if Ponk _wants_ to watch the dark miracle.

“He only reserved it for select audiences, apparently,” Puffy says. “His dark miracle tonight was to make everyone disappear. Including yourself.”

“But I didn’t! I was running around Pumpkin Park the whole night.”

Could the answer to this trick lie in what Ponk believes he was doing? Or rather, what he did?

“In any case, I think you can release Punz now,” Wilbur says. “After all, the Masked Gentleman appeared when he was in detention.”

“I have to agree with Wilbur on this,” Sapnap says. “Inspector Ponk, please tell Inspector Sheffield to let Punz go.” He turns to Wilbur. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Ponk splutters, about to protest, but Wilbur is already on his way. He can feel a migraine coming on, and all these flashing lights and noisy cacophony is not helping matters.

He still has a story to tell, after all, once they have returned to their accommodations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzle(s) in this Chapter:  
> A Muddy Mess  
> Trip to the Hospital  
> Settle the Scores


	7. The Ghosts of Akbadain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> entering the ruins...
> 
> and tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special announcement: I could not find a picture for the puzzle The Last Door but no other puzzle would work here so pls click on the link with the words "The Last Door Puzzle" to see it! (It will take you to a video so anyone on mobile data...) Pls pause the video too or else the answer would be revealed

[“You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GMzKMGWoPc&) should take this, George.”

Dream deposits a coin into his waiting palm, a coin engraved with strange symbols. The symbols of the Azran. Wilbur adjusts the haversack on his shoulders. God, this thing is downright heavy.

George squints at it for a mere second before pushing it back to him. “I…Dream, I can’t.”

“Think of it as something you’re helping me keep safe till I come back,” Dream says. “Can you do that for me, George?”

George frowns, but pockets the coin anyway. “Well, at least I have a physical promise now.”

Dream beams. “I’ll be seeing you, then.” He meets Sapnap’s eyes, Sapnap who is seeing them off also. He and Dream exchange a wordless goodbye. With a wave of his arm, Dream sets off in the direction of Foolish Desert. Map in hand, Wilbur by his side.

*

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xN_2vaDZKNA) desert sun beats relentlessly on their backs as Dream and Wilbur trudge across the dunes. It is not far from the sleepy town of L’manburg but is still far enough that Wilbur wonders whether they would have trouble finding their way back.

Moreover, the load he is carrying is literally backbreaking. Then again, he should not complain. It is Dream who provided the shovels, the maps and canteens.

“It’s here,” Dream says, looking up. They have made it to the middle of the bowl. Staring right at them is the esoteric ruins of what must be the lost city of Akbadain, remnants of the Azran’s legacy. Chipped pillars flank the entrance, their green hue dulled by age.

It sort of makes Wilbur wonder how people never picked up on the ruin’s location, considering just how it just peeks out from the surface.

“Come on, let’s head in,” Dream says, taking the lead.

Wilbur surveys the entrance, somewhat apprehensive. Who knows what they may find in there? Traps? Monsters?

Dream strides boldly in, boots tapping lightly along the solid tiles. Sand piles in corners, against broken walls, flowing from cracked ceilings. Wilbur takes a swig from his canteen, making sure to save some water for their long journey ahead.

“Creepy” would be an apt description for the long, soulless hallways they travel. The further they go, the more cobwebs he sees, strange sounds echoing from deep within the chambers. Dream, on the other hand, does not seem perturbed at all. He hums a cheerful tune, unafraid of the challenges that lie ahead.

The challenges that pop up all too soon.

“What is-”

[A sudden](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b1ZDoAsM7Tk) rumble catches them off guard as soon as they walk into a massive chamber. Bursting from the ground are strange monsters wrapped in plaster. Mummies. They are definitely not the shambling sort. These monsters wield cutlasses, sharp blades shining in the dim light.

These mummies are out for blood.

“This way!” Dream shouts, making a break for the door at the other end of the chamber. Wilbur takes off after him, footsteps thundering against the tiles as the mummies follow in hot pursuit.

Dream rams his shoulder against the thick block of stone, wincing as he comes away bruised, the door barely budged.

“What’s wrong?” Wilbur asks, hardly able to keep the rising panic from his voice. “Why isn’t the door opening?”

The whirr of the mummies gets louder and louder, piercing their eardrums. Dream glances around, eyes widening when he realizes just what they need to do.

“Switches!” Dream shouts. “Step on the one over there!”

“What about-”

Dream is sprinting before Wilbur can finish his sentence, ducking under one of the mummies’ rotating blades. Well, those are not actual mummies, but rather robots designed to look like mummies!

Wilbur turns, freezing for a split second when he notices the mummy monster coming for him. A strangled scream escapes his throat as he throws himself to the ground, the rough surface scratching at his torso. The mummy stabs its blade into the wall where it remains trapped, giving Wilbur enough time to pick himself up. Wilbur runs towards the button that Dream mentioned, which sinks into the floor when he steps on it.

As soon as he steps on the button, the door rumbles and swings inwards, allowing them passage to a set of stairs. To Wilbur’s relief, the mummy monsters have collapsed, their annoying drone coming to a satisfying halt.

[“Well,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xN_2vaDZKNA) that was…” Dream is breathless as he meets Wilbur at the door. “That was intense.”

Wilbur shoots him a deadpan look. This is only the first floor and they are already getting ambushed. Just how far does this place go? How many more dangers are they going to have to face? This expedition, in Wilbur’s eyes, is ridiculous.

“How many floors is this?” Wilbur asks.

Dream scratches his head as he walks down the narrow corridor, lined with glyphs and tiles and writings of the Azran that Wilbur cannot read. “Um…I’m not sure. It could be a hundred, for all we know.”

“The supplies we brought are not enough for a hundred floors, Dream.”

Dream chuckles. “Just kidding. I mean, I don’t _think_ it’s a hundred floors. Might be ten or so.”

Nine more floors of this. This horrible nightmare. If not for the fact that Dream is his best friend – Sapnap is _Dream_ _’_ _s_ best friend, by the way – Wilbur would never have agreed to join him on this treacherous journey.

Hours fly by as they continue heading deeper and deeper into the dark and damp of the ruins. Instead of sand, water now plops from the ceiling. The sand crunches beneath their feet.

It was terrifying, to say the least. Mummies would pop out from the earth, now armed with spikes and swifter feet. Every encounter was a close shave, blades missing their heads by a hair. Wilbur has lost count of the number of times his heart leapt to his mouth as he steps on the switches.

The doors slide open, crumbling as they go. With every step they take, every door they open, it brings them closer and closer to the depths.

Finally, they step out into a large, circular chamber. It is filled with sarcophagi lined up against the walls, skeletons of explorers and warriors past lying on the ground, dead as doornails. What in the world happened here?

[It is](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3g7AlqUsIZE) when the door shuts behind them, a wall of stone dropping in the doorway, that Wilbur suddenly realizes what is up. As if on cue, the sarcophagi burst open, revealing mummy monsters armed with an arsenal of blades. There has to be at least twenty of the things!

“What the fuck!” Wilbur throws himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the chop of a spinning blade. Dream leaps over a low sweep and dives towards the dismal suit of armour in the corner. Wilbur follows him, the pounding of his heart and the ringing of his ears overwhelming.

Dream pulls the sword from the decomposing warrior’s sheath and hurls it at his friend. The sword slices through the air, grip landing perfectly in Wilbur’s palm. Wilbur spins on his heels, slashing the nearest mummy monster. Bandages and plaster, gears and bolts fall to the ground as the mummy monster moves no more.

Dream yanks another sword from the warrior’s friend and joins Wilbur in the ferocious battle. It is no longer the friendly fencing match they engage in back at school, with harmless foil and protective gear. No, this is a matter of life or death.

“Wilbur! Get down!”

Wilbur ducks as Dream’s blade swings over his head, cutting three monsters at once. All three lie motionless on the ground, the life flickering from those emotionless eyes.

Wilbur rises, back bumping against Dream, as they face down the last of the robots, hacking and slashing their way to victory. The final mummy monster breaks before them, detached arms and legs falling with a thump to the ground.

[“Well,”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xN_2vaDZKNA&) Dream says, chest heaving with forceful pants. “That’s all of them.”

Wilbur simply wants to collapse and die. He has exerted more energy in this one fight than he has had the entire day. Forget running from the mummies and pressing buttons. This takes the goddamn cake.

“Come on,” Dream says, tossing his sword aside. “There’s still a long way to go.”

As much as Wilbur resents the idea of proceeding – he just wants to take a breather – more mummy monsters might be on their way if they just hang around. His legs scream in aches, but he drags himself as he follows Dream further into the ruins.

“It’s getting late, Dream,” Wilbur says, frowning at his watch. It is almost sundown. His parents would be getting worried. “Don’t you think we should head back?”

“I’m not forcing you to stay,” Dream says with a shrug of his shoulders, barely sparing Wilbur a glance. “You can go back if you want.”

“But I promised George…”

“I can’t give up now,” Dream says, shaking his head. “I need to prove to everyone that…that archaeology isn’t useless. If I find this Azran legacy, then I’d be able to show George that…” He trails off, as if searching for words.

“Show him what?”

“Um…The thing is…” Dream stops, scratching his head. “I’m…uh…you know how George and I have been together for a while now?”

“Yes?” Where is this coming from?

“Well…I was thinking that after this whole expedition’s over, I’m gonna…I’m gonna propose to him.”

Wilbur’s eyes bulge from their sockets. “Propose?”

“Yeah,” Dream says, nodding. “Like…I was trying to impress George too…kinda. Imagine if we managed to solve the mystery that has remained unsolved for ages. We’d be the talk of the country!”

Wilbur folds his arms. No doubt about that, but still, is putting themselves in such danger worth it?

“Treasure waits for no man,” Dream says, plodding on ahead. “Let’s go!”

The rest of their journey is no less perilous. They must still evade the mummy monsters roaming the hallways and run from rolling boulders. As they head from room to room, corridor to corridor, it gets colder and colder. Wilbur finds himself shivering before long, arms wrapped around himself. Their breaths are wispy puffs dissipating in the air. If he knew it would be this chilly, he would have packed a coat or something.

The next chamber they come to has a slightly different feel to it. Crystals glitter from the ceiling. Luminous moss illuminates the room, growing on the chipped rocky platforms floating in the water, braving the rapids that rush by.

[“There](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZ-8NT_fpUk&) it is!” Dream points out excitedly, stabbing a finger at a door at the far end. Wilbur squints. It looks exactly like the Norwell Wall, with a similar set of inscriptions carved into it. That must lead them to the treasure of the Azrans. He reaches into his bag, retrieving the Mask of Chaos, gazing at the lines of the Azran alphabet etched onto its surface. “Let’s go, Wilbur.”

The boys leap over the rocks, careful not to lose their footing on the slippery platforms. With longer legs, Wilbur is able to traverse the river more efficiently.

It is when Wilbur makes it to the rock just beyond the halfway mark that he first senses the shift in the current. From the way the water seems to slap the rocks even harder, the white of foam spraying into his eyes.

The next thing he notices is the tremor in the ground. Rocks fall around them, splashing into the water violently. The path which they came, the platforms, are now falling apart, sinking beneath the water.

[“Dream!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3g7AlqUsIZE) We have to go!”

Dream wastes no time in leaping over the rocks, following Wilbur as the two of them sprint and jump. The water threatens to claim them both, the vast volumes slamming into the rocks like freight trains. Wilbur makes the final leap towards the crumbling ledge, where the treasure chamber awaits.

He spins on his heels, peering back at Dream, body suspended in the air for a split second, arm thrown out. Wilbur scrambles over to the edge, making a grab for Dream’s arm and barely managing to grip his wrist.

Dream dangles over the ledge like a rag doll, clutching the Mask of Chaos like a lifeline. The ravine is now drained of water. The rocky platforms also gone for good, crashed into the abyss below.

Wilbur grits his teeth, muscles straining under the effort. “Give me…Give me your other hand, Dream!” Drop the mask, Dream, so I can pull you up!

Dream does not respond. For a moment, Wilbur thought he might have fainted. He lifts his head, with the most forlorn expression on his face. Wilbur does not like it. Not one bit.

“Dream! I can’t hold on!” Wilbur wheezes. “Just drop the mask already, man!”

“I…” Dream drops his gaze once more. “Tell George and…and Sapnap that I’m sorry.”

What is that supposed to mean?

Bits of ledge crumble and fall to the abyss below. Beyond Dream’s body is naught but a patch of blackness. Wilbur can hardly imagine what sort of fate may await Dream should he fall.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry too, Wilbur,” Dream says softly. He holds up the Mask of Chaos. “Here. Take it. Solve the final puzzle, Wi-”

The ledge crumbles, and Dream’s wrist slips. Wilbur gasps. He can barely process what is happening when Dream tumbles into the darkness below, Mask still in his hand. Wilbur can only watch as he goes, heart sinking to the pit of his guts.

Just like that, with nary a sound, Dream is gone.

[That](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlZXAY7ES3s) cannot be right, Wilbur thinks, peering over the chasm. His chest constricts, as if a python has coiled around him. Dream is one of the most spirited people he knows. He, of all people, cannot die.

“Dream?”

In the silence of the chamber, Wilbur’s voice is so very small. No sound at all, save the drip of water from the ceiling. Wilbur squeezes his eyes shut. This is a dream. Just that, a fever dream. Any moment now, he is going to open his eyes and find himself at that picnic with Dream, George and Sapnap. They did not go on any expedition to stupid, old ruins, not one with berserk mummy monsters and deadly traps and…

When Wilbur opens his eyes, all he sees before him is the giant chasm. Not at a picnic, not smelling the flowers.

Just a deserted chamber.

All alone.

Wilbur staggers to his feet, jaw clenching. Dream had been a promising young man, with so much to live for. An excellent family, amazing interests, a caring boyfriend…

Why did God have to take all that away from him?

Wilbur turns back to the wall. An uncontrollable rage boils. The Azrans…the fault belongs to the Azrans. Every single one of them. Wilbur clenches his fists, suppressing the urge to punch the wall, to destroy their fucking treasure and to hurl it to the depths of the ravine.

If the Azrans didn’t exist, then would Dream still be alive?

Wilbur hobbles over to the door, inspecting the inscriptions on the wall. Dream always knew what to do. He knew everything, from the story of a random relic to the ancient scriptures of the Azran.

This is the least he can do, Wilbur thinks. To solve the final puzzle of the Azran, the puzzle that Dream never reached.

[ ** <Puzzle: The Last Door> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZ-8NT_fpUk&)

[The Last Door Puzzle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-xKMKoaPMA&t=4841s)

There are nine tablets as shown, each with a different symbol engraved on it. Five of such tablets must fit into the grooves above the door. Only by fitting the correct five tablets would the door open.

Which are the five tablets to be fit, and in which order?

Wilbur slides the last tablet into place, and the door trembles before sinking into the ground, letting him through.

If Wilbur had been firmer in his stance, would Dream still be alive? If he had tried to stop Dream to the same degree as George had, would Dream still be with them?

Wilbur stumbles through the door, dragging his backpack with him. This new room is sparkly, surrounded by a circular canal that borders the room. In the middle of it lies a treasure chest, bursting with golden coins and jewels.

 _This_ is the treasure? No wonderful technology, no fantastic knowledge? Just…material gold and jewels and…

Wilbur sinks to his knees, the energy totally sapped from him. This is what Dream gave his life up for. Worthless materials that lay forgotten at the depths of the Akbadain Ruins.

Wilbur grits his teeth.

He doesn’t want any part of it at all.

*

[“There’s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=abLGfX-p1sE) Wilbur!” George picks himself up from his perch on the fence, sprinting over to Wilbur. His shoulders are slumped, plodding his way back down the dirt path. The bite of sand in his shoes is annoying, but nothing compared to the wrenching of his heart.

How is he going to break the news?

“Why the long face?” George asks with a laugh. Sapnap walks up behind him. Wilbur cannot bring himself to meet their eyes. “Where’s…” George trails off. “Where’s Dream?”

“He’s…” Wilbur glances away. The words are on the tip of his tongue, but his throat is too parched to speak. If he does not say them, then perhaps, they will not come true.

“No…” George takes a step back. “You’re joking.”

Sapnap remains silent.

“Dream is…tell me you’re joking, Wilbur.”

He cannot lie, but saying those words is too hard to bear. Even harder than seeing George crumple to the ground, body convulsing as he hugs himself.

Wilbur looks up at Sapnap. The boy stands stock-still, mouth open, but unsure of what to say. Is he regretting his encouragement? Or is he too much in shock to respond? Whatever it is, the devastation on his face is too profound to ignore.

That night, they lost a friend to the unforgivable ruins of the Azran civilization.

Wilbur wishes they had never gone in there. If they could go back in time, then…if they could…

They could have saved Dream.

*

Days pass. Months pass. Wilbur no longer hangs out with George or Sapnap like he used to. He kept mostly to himself, going home immediately as soon as the bell rings, locking himself up in his room and throwing himself into his studies.

On the day of graduation, Wilbur makes for the tiny hill where they used to hold picnics at least once a week. Dream would tell them all about his new discovery. A new slew of puzzles he came up with.

It used to hold happy memories, memories Wilbur thought he would look back on and smile. He approaches the slab of stone, erected in Dream’s honour. A bouquet of flowers wilt against it. A ladybug flits away as soon as Wilbur sits gingerly by the grass.

A slight breeze whips by him, refreshing in the heat of summer. He has one last gift for his friend. Wilbur fishes a gold coin from the pocket of his coat, laying by Dream’s grave.

“This is the treasure you wanted,” Wilbur says. The grave replies with silence. “I think it would have made your parents happy. George too. And Sapnap.”

Wilbur picks himself up, brushing the grass from his pants. It is almost time to go, after all. His family is moving to London, where Wilbur will attend Gressenheller in September. To become an archaeologist.

To walk in the footsteps that Dream can never hope to anymore.

Wilbur turns his back on the grave and heads back down to his house, where the van has already arrived. Very soon, he will leave this place behind. He will leave the past where it belongs, leave the pain where it will stay.

He will probably never return. Not to the sleepy town of L’manburg.

May the curse of the Azran leave him be.

*

“That’s…” Puffy starts but stops abruptly. Wilbur can barely meet her gaze. There. He has done it. Laid it bare for both his assistants to hear. Maybe now they would start treating him more like a boss than a…a friend.

After all, his friends do not usually meet good ends.

A sudden force barrels into Wilbur from his side, sending him smashing into the mountain of pillows. What in the world? Where did that come from?

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” Wilbur huffs, shoving at the tiny shape curled into his side. Tommy clings on tight, face buried in Wilbur’s shoulder.

“My mother hugs me when I’m feeling sad.”

“Sad? I’m not feeling-” Wilbur’s throat constricts. His chest seizes and there is a strange sourness in his nose. What is happening to him? It is as if he has relinquished control over his body.

“There, there,” Puffy says, reaching over to pat his shoulder. Why is she so blurry? Wilbur swipes at his eyes. Why…? “I’ll go and get some tea.”

Wilbur’s eyelids feel like lead as he leans back against the pillows, Tommy still wrapped around him like a ferret. Wilbur throws an arm over his eyes, sleeve dampening.

When Puffy returns, the duo is fast asleep with the lights still on, completely dead to the nightlife of Monte d’Or. Puffy smiles, placing the tray gently beside them and moving to switch the lights off, bathing the room in darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzle(s) in this Chapter:  
> The Last Door


	8. The Reunion Inn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the masked gentleman's identity: revealed

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBT_79RYNp4&) piercing rays of sun shining into Wilbur’s eyes is what awakens him from his peaceful slumber. He blinks awake, wiping at the crust at the corners of his eyes. Tommy has half his body resting on Wilbur’s arm, his limb completely numb from the lack of circulation. Tommy snores much too loudly for an eleven-year-old.

What time is it? Wilbur has a rather hazy recollection of what happened the night before. He had been telling Tommy and Puffy about the Akbadain Ruins and…

Oh.

Well, that had been embarrassing.

Wilbur carefully manoeuvres his arm from under Tommy, wincing at the pinpricks under his skin. He will wake Tommy later. He should take a shower now – he did not have the time nor energy last night.

Not long after he emerged from the shower does he hear a knock at the door. Wilbur is greeted by Puffy, who looks raring to go.

“Tommy is still asleep.”

“Is he now?” Puffy says, peeking into the room. “Well, wake him up, then.”

Once Tommy has been revived from the depths of sleep, it would be time to head down to the breakfast hall. God knows Wilbur is famished.

*

“Professor!”

Wilbur turns at the sound of the voice, from a frazzled man in a butler’s outfit. He is the butler who works at Punz’s residence. What was his name again? Gonzales?

“May we help you?” Wilbur asks.

“It was just…Master Punz has returned! I don’t know how I could ever thank you!” Gonzales says, bowing almost a full ninety-degrees. “Please, do drop by if you can. Master Punz would really like to express his most heartfelt gratitude.”

“We could go now,” Puffy says. “Just say hi or something.”

Wilbur had been eager to return to Pumpkin Park; he has yet to figure out how the Masked Gentleman had made everyone disappear the night before. However, dropping by Punz’s house would not be too much trouble, he hopes.

“I don’t see why not,” Wilbur says. “Lead the way.”

Gonzales bows. “Follow me, please.”

Punz’s house is no different than he remembers. The fearsome Great Dane sits at the door loyally, chained to its post. The place’s entrance is still barren, a stark contrast to that of the Found estate. The gate creaks as they enter.

“Master Punz! I have brought the professor with me!” Gonzales calls. Wilbur surveys the room. This is the first time he has actually been in Punz’s house, be it five years back or here.

Punz is seated at his desk, rifling through a stack of papers. He smiles and stands, greeting them heartily.

“You know, I always thought you were a bit of a boring guy,” Punz says, “but really, I must thank you for what you did for me.”

Wilbur nods. “I had evidence that suggested the contrary. That is all there is to it.”

“Even so, it’s nice to hear that someone believed in you even when no one else did,” Punz says. “How goes your investigation of the Masked Gentleman, by the way?”

“Coming along…not well,” Wilbur says, shaking his head. “We are no closer to finding out his identity since three days ago.”

Punz nods solemnly. “Well, you know for sure that I’m not the Masked Gentleman, and honestly? I don’t think Sapnap is either.”

“Then that leaves…” Who does that leave?

“I stand by my accusation of George, by the way,” Punz says, sighing. “Grief is not easy to overcome, let me tell you that.”

“And you purport that he wants to get revenge on Sapnap?”

“Maybe,” Punz says with a shrug. “Sorry I can’t be of much help. This case has really got my head spinning.”

Spinning…

Why does that word seem so striking?

Spinning…

An idea pops into Wilbur’s head just like a lightbulb. He must test this theory immediately.

“I think,” Wilbur says, with a nod of his head, “that I had just experienced an epiphany, and it’s all thanks to you. If you’d excuse me, Punz. I would like to head off and solve another of those dark miracles.”

“You what?” Tommy asks, intrigued.

Punz blinks. “I have no idea what just happened but…whatever you say.”

Wilbur heads out of his house with swift steps. He has to go back to Topsy Tower, for the answer lies within its stone column and its confounding mechanism.

*

[Pumpkin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byItBwdnsHw) Park is no less crowded in the daytime than at night. People are here to partake in the fun the amusement park has to offer, contributing to the snaking queues and excited chatter.

Wilbur makes a beeline for Topsy Tower, with Tommy and Puffy right behind him. The tower looms in the distance, hiding a secret that Wilbur had probably guessed, but needs confirmation.

“What are we doing here?” Puffy asks.

“To discover the secret of the dark miracle last night,” Wilbur says as a matter-of-factly. “Come on, let us enter.”

“Can we?” Tommy asks suspiciously, staring up at its mossy walls.

Wilbur has already breached the gate, throwing open the doors to the tower. Sunlight streams in, shining on the fuse boxes and electrical wiring on the tower walls. He steps inside, shoes clanking on metal.

He crosses the tower, to the door on the other end. Beyond the door is a winding path through a forest. Wilbur remembers those overhangs. The thick canopies that blocked out most of the moonlight providing them much shade from the morning sun.

“Where does this go?” Tommy wonders with a frown.

“As I suspected,” Wilbur says. “I’m sure you will recognise the place. It _is_ quite lovely.”

Wilbur recalls this path, the one that lacks the fallen logs and jutting roots. The walk is short, leading straight up to what appears to be another amusement park. Spinning pumpkins, the Ferris Wheel, the rollercoasters…

“Isn’t this…” Tommy gapes. “This is Pumpkin Park!”

“But there aren’t any people here,” Puffy comments, confusion clear in her features.

“This is the trick,” Wilbur says. “Do you remember feeling dizzy yesterday? From when we had entered the tower after the Masked Gentleman dragged George away?”

“Yeah. It was shit,” Tommy mutters.

“There is a reason for our disorientation,” Wilbur says. “You see, the floor of Topsy Tower spun beneath our feet while we stood still. We were moved from where we entered to the other exit of the tower. The path on the other end led us to this fake Pumpkin Park that was built behind it.”

“What tipped you off?” Puffy asks, marvelling at the park. Wilbur is impressed by how much it resembles that of the actual Pumpkin Park as well.

“Pumpkin Park is visible from our window at the Dromedary,” Wilbur says. “I noticed that Topsy Tower was in the middle of the amusement park during our first night. Now, when we pursued the Masked Gentleman yesterday, Sapnap clearly said that Topsy Tower was at the northernmost part of the park.”

“What the hell!” Tommy cries in disbelief. “How’d you-?”

“I had found that a little strange, but I did not think much of it,” Wilbur says with a noncommittal shrug. “I had only remembered it this morning.”

“But how was this whole place built?” Puffy wonders. “There’s no way that Sapnap didn’t notice.”

“Well…it _is_ rather far out. The forest does hide the park well,” Wilbur says. “Still, we must leave no stone unturned. I believe we do need to see Sapnap. And George.”

“About the construction of the Park?”

“That’s right. They may be able to shed some light on the matter,” Wilbur says. “Come on, now.”

The trio head back the way they came, back to Topsy Tower and the actual Pumpkin Park, and back to the heart of Monte d’Or.

*

[“Wilbur!”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSbheIypPtk&) George opens the door, raising a brow in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“There’s something I’d like to ask you and Sapnap about,” Wilbur says. “Mind if I come in?’

They wind up in the sitting room once more. No tea this time – Wilbur does not think that they will take very long. Sapnap is busy, apparently. Wilbur can imagine, especially since he has a city to run and all.

“So, what would you like to know?” George asks.

“About Pumpkin Park…”

“What about it?”

Wilbur steels his gaze. “Did you know that there was exact replica of it behind the actual park?”

George’s eyes bulge. “What do you mean?”

Wilbur explains his deductions to George, who nods and listens with rapt attention. At the end of it, George is in disbelief.

“I’d like to know if Sapnap approved of its construction,” Wilbur says. “This _is_ his city, after all.”

George shakes his head. “I don’t think he did. The Masked Gentleman must have…I don’t know. Somehow built it without us knowing.”

“But there’s something I don’t get,” Tommy says. “Why us? Why were we the ones he wanted to show this miracle to?”

“If I were to make a correction, I would like to ask why the miracle was crafted around the express interest of showing it only to the five of us,” Wilbur says, folding his arms.

George sighs. “I…I’m not sure. But maybe it has something to do with the Mask of Order.”

“The Mask of Order?” Wilbur asks. The mask that complements the Mask of Chaos. Balance will be achieved when the two masks come together, were the words inscribed on the mask when Dream showed it to them five years ago. Wilbur never forgot them. However, what does the Mask of Order have to do with their current predicament?

“Yesterday, when the Masked Gentleman dragged me away, he said that we can only stop his miracle tonight if we give him the Mask of Order,” George says.

“And he believes we hold the Mask of Order.”

“I remember having seen it before in the study, but it was gone last I checked,” George says, clasping his fingers in front of him. “I tried to ask Sapnap about it, but he kept claiming that we didn’t have it.”

How peculiar.

“We have to find the Mask of Order, Wilbur,” George says. “It…it’s the only way to save this city from destruction.”

“Destruction?” Is that the dark miracle that would take place tonight?

“The Masked Gentleman told me the previous night,” George says. “He said that he would destroy this city if we don’t give him the Mask of Order.”

Wilbur leans back against his chair. Odd, he thinks, but is not sure what to make of this conjecture of his. It invites a niggling sense of uncertainty.

“I see,” Wilbur says, rising. “One more thing: do you know of any place in this city that the Masked Gentleman could perform his miracle such that we can see it from anywhere in town?” The location would be key to stopping the terrible miracle tonight.

George picks at a cuticle. “The Reunion Inn…I think it would be the Reunion Inn.”

“The Reunion Inn?”

“It’s accessible only by tram,” George says. “I think it’s the only place big enough. Or, well, _tall_ enough.”

Wilbur rises. “May we investigate it to our heart’s content?”

George nods. “Go ahead. I’ll let the hotel staff know.”

Wilbur smiles. “Thank you for your time, George. Now, we must get going.”

George returns the smile and sees them off at the door. Before long, Tommy and Puffy are already heading past the rose bushes and making for the metal gate at the entrance of the estate. Wilbur watches them for a few moments before turning back to George.

“I was meaning to ask you this,” Wilbur says. “But where did your pendant go?”

“I lost it,” George says regretfully. “It was getting old and I was planning on replacing it anyway.”

Wilbur nods. “I see.”

With that, he follows Tommy and Puffy out of the estate. It is time to head to the Reunion Inn. They have a lot of investigating to do.

*

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBT_79RYNp4&) Reunion Inn is one of the weirdest buildings that Wilbur has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. It looks almost like a medieval castle, turret-like towers sprung from its main body. The building itself is surrounded by a canal flanked by reeds and inhabited by fishes.

“What’s this?”

Puffy stands by a monument, a large stone plaque engraved with words.

 _The Reunion Inn, the first building erected in Monte d_ _’_ _Or._

“The first building?” Tommy squints at the plaque, then at the Inn, and back at the plaque.

“It certainly looks the part,” Wilbur says, stepping towards the bridge that crosses the canal. There are many tourists just milling about in the courtyard and gardens. One can say that the Reunion Inn may be itself an attraction.

The air conditioning rushing out of the automated doors grants them respite from the blazing heat of the afternoon sun. Its design is much more rustic than that of the Dromedary, and it reminds Wilbur somewhat of L’manburg. What nostalgia.

They are greeted by a bellhop at the reception desk. “Good day, sirs and madam.” He sizes Wilbur up. “Could you be Professor Soot?”

“Why yes, I am,” Wilbur says. “George must have informed you of my arrival.”

“Indeed he has,” the bellhop says. “I am Mordy, the manager of the Inn. Before I may assist you, I would like to ascertain if you truly are who you say you are.”

“You doubt the Professor?” Tommy deadpans.

“Don’t be rude, Tommy. He’s just being cautious.” Wilbur turns back to Mordy. “I suppose your test would come in the form of a puzzle?”

Mordy looks surprised. “Why, yes. Please, this way.”

[ ** <Puzzle Battle: vs Mordy> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoJJSNgcVCE)

He leads them to a table in the lounge and retrieves nine chips from his pocket. These chips resemble those at the casino, except they come with a numeral upon their surface. Mordy places them on the table in a 3x3 square.

6 5 4  
1 3 2  
8 7 9

“Now, as you can see, the sums of the numbers in the columns add up to fifteen, but the sum of the rows are not equal,” Mordy says. “You have four moves to arrange the chips such that that every column and row adds up to the same number. Swapping chips count as one move.”

Wilbur peers down at the arrangement of chips. Within a single minute, he has the solution, swapping the chips and rearranging them as needed.

8 3 4  
6 7 2  
1 5 9

“There,” Wilbur says. “The sum of each column and each row now add up to fifteen.”

Mordy claps his hands. “Very good, very good! I can be assured that-”

“Might I propose a…more elegant solution to this problem?” Wilbur says, replacing the chips back to their original positions:

6 5 4  
1 3 2  
8 7 9

“While the rows and columns may have an equal sum, the diagonals are not resolved,” Wilbur says, holding up a finger. “By touching only two chips, I can make it such that all the rows, columns and diagonals make up the same sum.”

“Wait, what?” Tommy’s eyes widen.

Mordy raises a brow. “Please, do enlighten me.”

Wilbur smiles, and performs his magic:

6 7 2  
1 5 9  
8 3 4

“What the hell!” Puffy cries. “That’s cheating!”

“I did say that I was going to touch only two chips,” Wilbur says. “I abided by my own rules.”

[Mordy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBT_79RYNp4&) nods, clearly impressed. “There is no more doubt that you are the real deal.” He scoops the chips up and deposits them in his pocket. “Now, please allow me to escort you wherever you need to go.”

“Does Sapnap have a room here?” Wilbur asks. “He _is_ the owner of the hotel, correct?”

“He does,” Mordy says, nodding. “Would you like me to take you there?”

“Please do.”

With that, Mordy brings them over to the elevator, glass walls affording them an amazing view of the hotel’s luxurious interior and indoor garden. Tommy presses his face against the glass, marvelling at the beauty of it.

The elevator grinds to a halt and dings, doors sliding open to reveal a long hallway, with a single room at the very end of it. Upon closer inspection, the door is carved with Sapnap’s name.

The room is more cluttered than Wilbur thought it would be. Papers and files lie everywhere on the shelves and the floor. Books flipped open, maps strewn on the desks. Wilbur’s eye catches on a familiar piece of writing on the wall.

He knows that handwriting. Lines drawn in red ink, scrawled all over planks of wood and over crinkled pieces of paper…

“This is Sapnap’s room, you say?” Wilbur says. Mordy nods.

“He has another room,” Mordy says, “where he keeps most of his excavation records. Would you like to see that room as well?”

“Please.” Wilbur turns to Puffy and Tommy. “You two investigate this place. See whether you can find anything out about the Masked Gentleman.”

Puffy salutes him, and she and Tommy get to work. Meanwhile, Wilbur has somewhere else he has to be…

*

[The moment](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G51wMdl9qfc&) Wilbur and Mordy leave the room, the duo gets to work. Puffy has her hands on her hips. Where do they even start?

“What’s this?”

Tommy approaches the desk by the door, picking up a toy robot standing upon it. The robot looks absolutely ancient. Puffy remembers seeing those popular models in toy stores back when she was a child.

“It’s covered in rust!” Tommy frowns, putting it back. His hand brushes a photograph, framed in gold. He picks it up, holding it out for Puffy to see.

“It’s Sapnap,” Tommy says, stabbing a finger at one of the young boys in the photograph. This photograph has browned and is torn at one of the edges. This must have been taken a long, long time ago, before Wilbur even became friends with Dream, perhaps. “And this is…”

“It must be Dream,” Puffy says. She has never seen the man before – only heard about him. Dream sports a boyish look, unruly locks falling over his forehead with one hand on Sapnap’s shoulder. Sapnap holds the robot in his hands. Both boys are grinning widely.

They must have been very close.

Tommy places the photograph back where it rests on the desk. Well, that is not important for now. What they need to find are clues pertaining to the Masked Gentleman.

It is a few minutes before Puffy finds an item of interest: a leatherbound diary. The first page reads: Excavation Journal 01.

Excavation Journal? What were they excavating?

“What’ve you got there?” Tommy pads up to her, tiptoeing in an attempt to peer over her shoulder.

Puffy sighs when she realizes that the diary is sealed with a puzzle lock.

[ ** <Puzzle: Bite of Bygone Days> ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3oPkkIVB2g&)

[ ](https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle:Bite_of_Bygone_Days?file=MM014.jpg)

This fossil was found on a riverbed. Close examination revealed tooth marks, suggesting that it was formed when some kind of ancient fish bit into something tasty.

Which one of the fish pictured in the book made these tooth marks?

“It’s A,” Tommy says, inputting the answer into the lock. The diary springs open, allowing them access to the secrets it holds within. 

_[It has](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iq9MTOpJOU&) been about a month since we went exploring in those accursed ruins. I_ _’_ _m beginning to wonder if this boy we_ _’_ _re supposed to find even exists._

Could the boy be…?

_At least we found gold. Lots and lots of it. What kind of people were these Azran to have amassed such riches?_

The Azran! Though these entries do not sound like it had been penned by Sapnap himself, it probably details the excavation he led of the Azran ruins? Had he hoped to find Dream there? His dedication to his friend is astounding. She flips to the next page.

_Three months, and we have scoured every inch of those ruins and battled those terrible mummies. There is still no sign of the boy._

_It is impressive how the Reunion Inn has attracted numerous business from all around the local towns. I_ _’_ _m sure this place would begin to flourish before long, like an oasis in a desert._

And flourish it had. From the sounds of it, they never did locate Dream. Not even his corpse.

Puffy places the journal back where she found it. Tommy has long since moved to inspect the wall filled with unintelligible scribbles. She joins him where he stands, scrutinizing the newspaper clippings and pieces of matte paper.

“What’s all this?” Tommy asks.

Puffy shrugs. “I don’t know.”

The only thing of note upon the wall is a detailed map of the ruins. Each floor fits together remarkably to form a corridor that spirals downwards into the ground, leading to the base of the ruins where Wilbur must have found the treasure. X marks the spot, they say.

It is then that the door swings open, and Wilbur and Mordy return with a file.

“That was fast,” Tommy comments. “What’ve you got there?”

“Excavation stuff,” Wilbur says. He reaches into the file and pulls out a long piece of paper crumpled beyond belief. He spreads it on the desk and smooths it out the best he can.

It is a map of Foolish Desert, Puffy realizes, where Monte d’Or is built.

“See this?” Wilbur says, gesturing to the bowl in the desert. “This is where the entrance to the Akbadain Ruins had been.”

“And?” Tommy frowns.

“Look at this,” Wilbur says, guiding them over to the spot on the wall where Puffy had been trying to make sense of the map. Placing both maps side by side, Puffy can clearly see what Wilbur is getting at now.

“Monte d’Or was built over the Akbadain Ruins?”

“Yes, quite,” Wilbur says. “The Reunion Inn is here.” Wilbur presses his finger against the northern part of the bowl. “But what intrigues me is the topography of the area.”

The topography?

“If you compare these pillars of sand,” Wilbur says, pointing out the random protrusions from the ground in the map, “they correspond to the pillars of the ruins.”

Puffy never did notice that. But what does that mean exactly?

“There is more than just treasure hidden under Monte d’Or,” Wilbur says thoughtfully. “Something that neither Dream nor I noticed back when we were teenagers. That can explain why the Masked Gentleman is so intent on finding the Mask of Order.”

“Do we need to go into the ruins ourselves, then?” Puffy asks.

“Perhaps,” Wilbur says, “but I hope it wouldn’t have to come to that.” He reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out something awfully familiar. Puffy gapes at it. “Apart from the map, I have found something else that may be of interest to you.”

“That’s what the Masked Gentleman wears!” Tommy cries.

In Wilbur’s hand is nothing more than the Mask of Chaos, white rimmed with gold and wearing the most mocking smile upon its face. This was the mask that started it all, the one that encouraged Dream to enter those ruins and sealed his fate. The one that lead to the construction of Monte d’Or and the Masked Gentleman’s antics.

“Does that mean that Sapnap was actually the Masked Gentleman the whole time?” Puffy asks.

“I doubt it,” Wilbur says, shaking his head.

“Wait, what if that’s not the Mask of Chaos but it’s the Mask of Order? You know, the other one,” Tommy suggests.

“Also no,” Wilbur says. “I expected to find a replica here. A fake, if you will. But rest assured, this is the genuine article. The real question is whether the Masked Gentleman himself is aware that the Mask is here.”

“Could there a connection between the Mask being here and the next miracle?” Puffy asks.

“Perhaps, but there is need for more investigation before we can arrive at any conclusions,” Wilbur says, pocketing the Mask once more.

“Ah, Professor! I just remembered that there is something that has been left for you at the front counter,” Mordy says, bowing. “Terribly sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” Wilbur says, tucking the file under his arm. It may come in handy later. “Let us go down to retrieve it, then.”

*

Mordy hands Wilbur a tome. Not that there are many pages, but that each page itself is incredibly thick. Its title is printed in a stylized font, accompanied with a picture depicting a sword.

“The Prince’s Tale,” Tommy reads.

What kind of story is that? A fable? Wilbur has never heard of such a fairy tale in his life. Did the Masked Gentleman leave this for them? Is this somehow linked to his dark miracle tonight?

Wilbur flips open the page, to find colourful illustrations and words in large print.

_One upon a time, there was a Prince. The Prince led a happy life, surrounded by his wealth, his beloved people and the love of his life. His best friend was the Chancellor, one who stayed by his side no matter what._

_One day, the Prince heard about a dragon living in the mountains. This dragon hoards gold and riches, and terrorised people with its breath of flames. In order to save his people, the Prince set out on a journey to defeat the dragon with the Chancellor._

_However, after dealing the final blow, the cavern collapses. The Prince was separated from the Chancellor, thought to be crushed under piles of rocks and debris._

_The Chancellor returned home. He broke the news to the Princess, who was devastated. She grieved for days, while the Chancellor remained dutifully by her side. The Chancellor had also taken the mantle of Prince, who ruled over his kingdom and grown it into a flourishing, prosperous city._

_All while bathing in the riches of the Prince._

_Months pass, and the Chancellor_ _’_ _s passion and perseverance finally got through to the Princess. They marry, an adoring audience sat watching with rapt attention. They live happily ever after_ _…_

_Or did they?_

[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m5ncOIw_e_U) flips the page but is met with the leather back of the book. He furrows his brows. What in the world was that ominous ending?

“Why’s the ending so sad?” Tommy asks.

Wilbur bites his lip. He does not like where this is going. It has cemented his suspicions in stone, the identity of the Masked Gentleman, but deep down in Wilbur’s heart, he does not want to believe it. Puffy offers to hold on to the book.

“I don’t think the book ends here,” Wilbur says. “There must be a second part to this story.”

“What makes you say that?” Puffy asks.

Because he knows just how the story is going to go. He turns to Mordy. “Do you know if there is any place in the Inn that can accommodate an audience?”

“Well, there _is_ the auditorium,” Mordy says. “It’s on the highest floor.”

They waste no time heading up the elevator. Wilbur taps his foot in impatience as the elevator ascends, bypassing each floor with minimal urgency.

Upon exiting the elevator, they are greeted by a long corridor. It is flanked with heavyset, wooden doors that complement the bucolic nature of the hotel. Mordy leads them down a branch in the hallway, past several recreational rooms.

An auditorium lies opposite the elevator, empty and looking quite sad. The area looks well-maintained, as to be expected of a five-star hotel.

Just then, the lights are switched off, plunging them into darkness. Wilbur blinks rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark. He grasps blindly at the railings of the staircase. He can hardly see the stage or the screen hanging over it.

“There’s something there!” Puffy shouts, jogging down the staircase. Once he is certain of his ability to see in the dark, Wilbur joins her, chancing upon a tome placed in the centre of the platform.

Judging from the title: The Prince’s Tale, this appears to be the second part of that unsatisfying story. Unfortunately, this tome is locked with a puzzle lock.

** <Puzzle: Jewels to the Lock> **

[ ](https://layton.fandom.com/wiki/Puzzle:Jewels_to_the_Lock?file=MM131.png)

The book is locked up tight by some mysterious contrivance. The trick to opening it lies in the ten arrow-shaped jewels adorning the cover. These jewels are arranged in a particular pattern and rotating just one arrow will release the lock.

Which jewel should they rotate to open the lock?

Wilbur spots the arrow immediately; this puzzle is nothing but child’s play. The lock falls away, clattering to the ground. Puffy digs her phone out of her pocket and activates its flashlight function, allowing them to read by the tiny beam of light.

_Unbeknownst to the Chancellor, the new King, the Prince had not been dead. While he had been buried alive, he had extricated himself from the piles of boulders and debris and dragged his bruised and battered body to the nearby town._

_He was nursed back to health, but not a day passed where he did not think of his Princess and his kingdom. How were they faring in his absence?_

_When he made the journey to return home, however, all he saw was the Chancellor basking in his glory with the Princess, now Queen, by his side. It had been a betrayal of the highest order._

_In rage, the Prince had made a vow. He would destroy this city, this kingdom he called home. Heartbroken and utterly shattered, the Prince stumbles away, with only revenge on his mind._

_He will exact the same pain upon the Chancellor that he had suffered. He would take this kingdom all away. All that the Chancellor has grown to know and love._

_He will take it all away._

_The End_

“That was…” Puffy scrunches her nose up. “That was one of the saddest fairy tales I’ve ever read in my life.”

“No doubt these were written by the Masked Gentleman himself,” Wilbur says.

“Do you think-”

“I see you have figured it out!”

A booming voice catches Wilbur off guard. He leaps to his feet, Puffy at his side, and Mordy on the other. The auditorium’s lights flicker to life once again, illuminating the room with their brilliant glow.

[There](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jy1VysToW4c&), standing at the doorway, is the Masked Gentleman. Tucked under his arm, bound with rope and gagged is none other than a squirming Tommy Innit.

When had he-?

Tommy struggles terribly hard against the Masked Gentleman, but his captor is much too strong.

Wilbur grits his teeth. How dare he!

“Let him go,” Wilbur snaps. “Your fight is with me, Masked Gentleman. Me, Sapnap and George. Not Tommy.”

“Oh, I know that,” the Masked Gentleman says with a flippant wave of his other hand. “But this boy…he’s your friend, isn’t he?”

Wilbur’s eyes widen.

Tommy grunts, twisting and turning with the ferocity of a cornered animal. The Masked Gentleman laughs as he rushes out of the room into the corridor.

“Tommy!”

Wilbur is out of the room in a flash, skidding to a halt as soon as he spots the Masked Gentleman. He perches precariously at the edge of the corridor, Tommy still thrown over his shoulder. In his hand, he holds a rope shining with a sheen of gold.

“Ta-ta,” the Masked Gentleman says, before launching himself from where he sits. Tommy’s terrified shriek echoes in the hotel, drowning out the Masked Gentleman’s delightful laughs as he soars from corridor to corridor, lassoing the rope around every ornamental protrusion imaginable.

He has essentially created a maze of ropes, leaving Tommy dangling from one of them with a hook through his shirt.

The Masked Gentleman lands effortlessly on the ground, the near-invisible wires tied to his body glinting in the light of the lobby. Surrounding him are guests and receptionists, all too afraid to oppose him.

“Now what, Wilbur Soot?” the Masked Gentleman gloats. “I heard you had a history of letting down your friends.”

Tommy hangs dangerously from the hook, all trussed up and unable to scream.

“Are you going to turn tail and run again?” the Masked Gentleman taunts. “Run like the coward you are! Go on! I know that’s all you’re capable of!”

“What do we…” Mordy starts, but Wilbur merely wrenches a candelabra from the wall.

“Wilbur!” Puffy cries, alarmed.

Wilbur swallows, palms sweaty as he grasps the candelabra. He is not going to abandon his friends. He is not going to turn tail and run. Never again.

“Puffy and Mordy,” Wilbur says. “Wait for me at the lobby.”

“Wilbur-wait!” Puffy shouts, but Wilbur has already kicked off from the railing.

His heart drops as soon as he goes hurtling through the air, clinging onto the candelabra as he soars from one end of the lobby to the other. As soon as he reaches the end of the line, he dislodges the candelabra, dropping to the rope below.

The rope bounces with the force of the drop. Wilbur tenses, but the candelabra holds his weight, delivering him further and further down the maze of ropes.

Soon, Tommy is within sights. Just a few more drops…a few more…

Wilbur jerks as the candelabra lands on the rope that Tommy dangles from. Tommy lets out a petrified squeak as the rope rebounds, his shirt tearing just that little bit more.

With one swift move, Wilbur grabs Tommy by the waist, freeing him from his airborne prison. With Tommy safe in his arm, Wilbur glides to the nearest corridor, hauling himself and Tommy over the edge of the railing.

He quickly undoes Tommy’s binds, ripping the bundle of cloth from his mouth.

“Holy…holy shit.” Tommy’s breaths are shaky, a trembling hand on his chest.

“You alright, Tommy?”

“I thought…I thought I was a goner, Wilbur.”

Wilbur rises to his feet, holding out a hand to Tommy. Tommy takes it. “Come on, we have to go down and meet with the Gentleman.”

“There’s nothing gentle about him, Wilbur.”

Gingerly, they make their way down the staircase, emerging into the grand hall where the Masked Gentleman awaits with his cane and cloak and mask. Puffy and Mordy are already gathered, waiting for them.

“Why don’t you take your mask off?” Wilbur says, tucking his hands in his pockets. “We already know who you are.”

The Masked Gentleman chuckles. He reaches for the mask’s edge and removes it, dropping it to the ground. Puffy stares, jaw dropped, as does Tommy.

The man standing before them is none other than Dream, albeit with longer hair that reaches his shoulders and darker skin than Wilbur remembers.

“Of all people,” Dream says, “I thought you’d be the one to figure it out, Wilbur Soot.”

Just then, the door bursts open, and Sapnap and George burst in. Sapnap halts at the entrance, staring dumbly at Dream, who snarls.

“How dare you show your face here, _Sapnap_?” The venom dripping from his voice is unheard of. Yet, Wilbur knows exactly what has made Dream so bitter.

“What do you mean?” Sapnap shakes his head. “I’ve been waiting for you the whole time, Dream-”

“Don’t you lie to me!” Dream bellows. “You left me for dead! You, and George and Wilbur! All of you!”

“We didn’t, Dream,” Wilbur steps in, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Please, believe us.”

“Why should I believe in you liars?” Dream snickers. “Clearly, you don’t care much for me.”

“Where were you all this time?” George asks, pushing past Sapnap. “Dream, you were…”

Dream harrumphs, a tight smile on his face. “It’s not like I have anything to hide, honestly.”

“How did you survive?”

“Well, after I fell into that chasm, I landed in a river,” Dream says. “The river carried me all the way out of the ruins and into a tiny village. Not so far from Monte d’Or, actually.

“The villagers found me and nursed me back to health. The only problem is that I didn’t have my memories.”

“You lost your memories?” Mordy asks.

“Yeah,” Dream says, staring at the ground. “The townspeople were nice. They offered me a place to stay and took care of me. Tended to my injuries and all that till I could walk again. For the next five years, I worked as a farmer in that village.”

“What…what prompted you to come back?” Sapnap asks.

“A letter arrived in the mail one day,” Dream says. “It was from a man I didn’t know, but he claimed to have information on my past, about the people who betrayed me.”

“Who sent the letter?” Sapnap asks. “Who-”

“I can’t say,” Dream huffs. “It’s not like you have a right to ask.”

“But Dream, we didn’t…” Wilbur trails off when Dream shoots him a scathing look. Wilbur decides to switch up his plan of attack. “What did this letter say, Dream? What did it tell you to do?”

“When I read the contents of the letter, everything came rushing back to me,” Dream says. “About your…your betrayal. You forced me to go into those ruins, Sapnap. You let me go when I was hanging by the edge of the ravine, Wilbur. We were one step away from putting our names down in history books and look where we are now.”

Dream laughs, a sort of maniac tone to it. “You couldn’t have just shared the glory, could you, Sapnap? No. You wanted it all to yourself. You wanted what was mine. You wanted all this…this honour that came with unearthing the ruins of Akbadain.”

“That’s not true, Dream! Can’t you just shut up for once?” Sapnap growls. “I didn’t do this for riches!”

“Then what? You took my glory. You took my wealth and built this goddamn city. You even took…you took George from me, Sapnap. You betrayed me in the worst ways possible.”

“Dream, that’s not true,” George says quickly. “Don’t do anything rash…”

“Oh, you bet I won’t do anything rash,” Dream sneers. “I’ve planned this all out, and no one’s going to stop me! I am going to ruin Sapnap. I’m going to ruin everything he’s grown to know and love.”

With a snap of his fingers, Dream soars high above their heads, making for the top floor of the hotel.

“I will now present to you, traitors, my final dark miracle!” Dream’s voice echoes in the confines of the Reunion Inn. “No one shall escape Monte d’Or alive!”

He really means it this time. His “dark” miracle.

Wilbur is the first one out of the Inn, footsteps pattering urgently against the marble floor. With a jerk and a rumble, the walls surrounding Monte d’Or rise, higher and higher, till Wilbur can hardly see the evening sky.

What is Dream intending to do? Surely not…

“Look! Over there!”

Following Tommy’s gaze, Wilbur spots the first streams of sand pouring into the city, gushing from the tops of the rocky cliffs. Dream is trying to bury them alive! Not just them, but everyone else in Monte d’Or!

“We have to get out of here, Wilbur!” Tommy grabs at his sleeve.

Wilbur turns to Sapnap. “Are there any available exits-”

“What a lovely idea,” Dream says. Wilbur’s head snaps up, to find Dream perched on the roof of the Reunion Inn. “It’s futile. I’ve blocked all the entrances and exits. No one can enter or leave Monte d’Or. Everyone is doomed to die here, Sapnap, and it is all your fault.”

“What do we do now, Wilbur?” Puffy asks, the emergency in her voice worrying.

“We…” Wilbur touches his chin, forcing his brain to think. To work those gears and cogs in his head. Surely, there must be a way to avoid ruin. Every puzzle has a solution. They just have to find it.

What loose end have they not tied up? What could possibly…

It clicks in his head all at once. Wilbur is not sure whether his idea would lead them anywhere, but it is better than leaving them all to die. Especially since every single person in Monte d’Or is depending on them.

“Come with me!” Wilbur shouts. “We must head for the centre of town!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puzzle(s) in this Chapter:  
> Puzzle Battle vs Mordy  
> Bite of Bygone Days  
> Jewels to the Lock


	9. The Final Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the miracle of monte d'or

[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jy1VysToW4c&) centre of the town is just outside the Dromedary, where a monument stands detailing the story of how the town came to be. This is the centre of town. There must be something here that can help them.

From the tram, Wilbur had seen the damage. People were stuck in homes as the level of sand continues to rise steadily. Some stragglers were clinging to lampposts, just out of the murderous reach of the unforgiving sand.

Thankfully, the land here is not as disturbed as others, allowing them to search for the final strip of magic they need to make their own miracle happen.

George is the one who spots it hidden under shrubbery and behind the trunks of palms. A manhole with the symbols of the Azran dancing on its rim. Wilbur twists the manhole and lifts it to the side, exposing a hole where a stairway descends into the underground.

“How’d you know this was here, Wilbur?” Tommy asks.

“Do you remember how I said that the entrance to the Akbadain Ruins lay in the middle of the bowl? And Monte d’Or was built over it?” Wilbur says, already climbing down the staircase. There is not a moment to lose.

“That means that in the centre of Monte d’Or is…the entrance to the Ruins?”

“Yeah,” Sapnap says, ducking his head as they pass through a narrow corridor. “I kind of forget this place even existed.”

The corridors devolve to rickety planks affixed to the walls, getting narrower and narrower as they descend into the ground. The ratty walkways deliver them to a circular platform where two pedestals stand, each depicting a different symbol.

“The Mask of Chaos and Order…” George mumbles, staring at the pedestals. “We only have one, right? We can’t activate it.”

[Wilbur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hq7AC-4PNvo) shakes his head, pulling the Mask from his pocket. “On the contrary. We have both the Masks in our possession.”

“How?” Sapnap asks. “That’s clearly only one Mask.”

“I re-read the words and came to a stunning conclusion,” Wilbur says, showing the group the interior of the mask. “‘Balance will be achieved when the two masks come together.’”

“And?” George asks impatiently, arms folded.

With a click and deft movements of his fingers, Wilbur separates the Mask. The Mask snaps into two, each part containing one half of the whole Mask.

“The Masks fit together like a puzzle,” Wilbur says. He hands the Mask of Chaos over to George, gesturing at the pedestal at one edge of the platform. “Mind if you put that in over there?”

George does as he is told, and Wilbur follows suit. The moment the two Masks are slotted into place, the pedestals glow before sinking into the ground.

The ground rumbles beneath their feet and it begins to elevate. The ceiling above them opens, spraying sand onto their faces. Sapnap coughs, and Tommy rubs at his eyes. Wilbur looks up at the darkness of the sky, at the twinkling stars above their heads.

This is the final miracle of the Mask. The miracle to end all miracles.

*

[“What is-”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iF26u4S6Ryo)

Dream barely manages to cling to the roof of the Reunion Inn as he watches the land rise, forming walls that cut between the houses, stopping nature from reclaiming the city.

“What’s happening?” Dream growls, leaping to his feet. What stopped his miracle? What stopped the total destruction of Monte d’Or?

His eyes rove the city, before landing on a mystical platform emerging from the chaos. Upon it stand five people, the three of whom are the banes of his existence.

Wilbur wears a self-serving smirk, hands tucked into his pockets as he meets Dream’s eyes.

“This is the true treasure of the Azrans, Dream! The treasure that we never reached!”

“No!” Dream screeches. He had been so close! He had almost…he had almost exacted his revenge on Wilbur, and George and…and…and Sapnap, that undeserving son of a bitch! “How dare you, Wilbur Soot? How dare you!”

“I dare!” Wilbur shouts back. “You shall not destroy this city, Dream. Not until you’ve learned its true miracle.”

“There is no miracle to be had in this glamourous rendition of a demonic city, Wilbur!” Dream shouts. Why does he feel so tired all of a sudden? The energy has been sapped from his being. Why now, of all times? “This is…This city should never have existed. Nothing like this should bear the rotten fruits of tragedy!”

“Why not just listen for once, Dream?” Sapnap pleads. “Please!”

“You’ve lost,” George continues. “Dream, you have to give up.”

Dream wants to slam his fists against the ground. He wants to slap that smile off Wilbur’s face. He wants to throttle Sapnap with his bare hands and leave him dying, gasping on the ground.

Why is fate so cruel? He lost everything, and even his plan for revenge…it has…

Dream laughs, eyes on the moon as it hangs high, weaving in and out of the clouds. The whoosh of the wind drowns his pathetic laughter. He wipes at his eyes, unable to stop this comedic scene.

George is right. He has lost, in every sense of the word. Dream could never have succeeded at anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO Puzzles in this Chapter!


	10. Epilogue: The City of Miracles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the city's true miracle

[It was](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=abLGfX-p1sE) not easy to convince Dream to return to the ground safe and sound. He staggers out of the Reunion Inn, with Wilbur and Mordy by his side. The citizens of Monte d’Or, along with Sapnap, Puffy and Tommy gather around Gallery Plaza, just in front of the art museum.

“Dream,” Sapnap says, reaching out to him. Dream bats it away weakly, exhaustion radiating from every pore of his being.

“You betrayed me,” Dream says, but the bite in his words is gone. “You betrayed me and left me for dead.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Wilbur says, folding his arms. “Sapnap never betrayed you. You have been nothing more than a pawn in someone else’s game.”

“A…A pawn?” Dream narrows his eyes.

“Exactly,” Wilbur says. “Someone else has been using you for their own gain. This person is the one who wrote the letters, telling you how shitty of a person Sapnap and George were.”

“And you know who this is?” Puffy asks.

“Of course,” Wilbur says. “This person has been standing by our side longer than we could have imagined.” He stabs a finger in George’s direction. “And that person is you.”

George stares, wide-eyed, holding up his hands.

“George?” Sapnap gazes from George to Wilbur, and back again.

“I wouldn’t call him George,” Wilbur says, frowning. “Why not reveal yourself, Techno?”

[George](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrORfWYb3FM) freezes for a moment, before a slow smile spreads across his face. He removes his mask, dropping his coat, and there stands none other than Techno Blade, the man who had tried to demolish Misthallery a few months ago in search of the Golden Garden.

“Wait, who the hell’s this?” Sapnap cries. “Where’s George?”

“Right here.”

Mordy removes his hat and bellhop’s uniform. The real George leaves his disguise pooled on the ground by his feet.

“I found George locked up in one of the Reunion Inn’s rooms, the same room where I found the Mask,” Wilbur says. “I had him dress up as Mordy, and let you continue your act a little while longer.”

“Because you needed me to solve the final puzzle, didn’t you?” Techno says with a grin. “Impressive.”

“That’s right,” Wilbur says. “What are you going to do now that your plans have been thwarted, Techno Blade?”

“I’m going to leave,” Techno says, shaking his head. “Look, there are fifty people here and I’m just one guy.”

“Are you going to continue evading the law?”

Running up to the plaza are several police officers. Techno pouts.

“There’s something I need to do first,” Techno says. “Something I can’t give up on.” He salutes Wilbur. “No time to chat. I have to go.”

“Wait, you can’t!” Sapnap hollers at the arriving officers, Ponk and Sheffield included amongst them. “Get him! Don’t let him escape!”

Techno is already off, making his way down the winding alleyways with a number of officers on his tail.

[“So I](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9OQF4U_cdw8) had been deceived,” Dream glances down at his trembling hands. “In the end, I was…a failure. And George still…” He lifts his head, meeting George’s eyes for an instant before lowering his gaze again. “You still married Sapnap.”

As if in explanation, George walks right up to Dream, grasping his face in his hands and pecking his lips. Dream comes away with the most shocked expression on his face, cheeks reddening.

“Our marriage was never real,” George says gently, quietly. “I only pretended to be married to Sapnap so my parents would get off my case. It was three years after we thought you died. Sapnap approached me and asked if I’d like to wait with him. Wait for your return, that is.”

George retrieves something from his pocket. The pendant, shimmering in the moonlight. The Azran coin that Dream asked George to hold onto so very long ago.

“You…you kept it,” Dream stares at the coin, utterly dumbfounded.

“We never betrayed you, Dream,” Sapnap says, taking a step towards the duo. “I built this city from the ground up for you.”

“For me?”

“When you’re feeling better, you can check the records,” Wilbur says. “We found the deeds to most of the properties in Monte d’Or in Sapnap’s office. And you know what? Most of them were signed under your name.”

Dream remains silent.

“After your supposed death, Sapnap hired explorers, excavation teams to venture down to the depths of the Akbadain Ruins to search for you,” Wilbur says. “A hotel was built for these explorers, and that is how Reunion Inn was born.”

“The longer the search went on, the more the town flourished,” Puffy says.

“And Monte d’Or became what it is today,” Sapnap says, gesturing at the surrounding buildings.

“The entire city was built around a single belief. It is a belief most aptly represented by the very relic you treasured, Dream.” Wilbur says. “It was Sapnap and George’s fervent belief that you would return one day. They knew that you would come searching for whomever claimed to hold the Mask, and so he created a fake. A replica, if you will.”

“It was the one that was stolen,” George says with a shrug. “Not really stolen, per se. I kind of…”

“Hid it in the Reunion Inn,” Wilbur finishes. “The Mask had been a beacon for you. But when the Masked Gentleman appeared, Sapnap and George knew the police would come calling. If they investigated the Mask and realized it was a fake, the beacon would have been no more.”

“You idiots.” Dream’s chuckle is watery. “You believed that I would come back.”

Wilbur nods. “And when you did, they would welcome you with open arms, with a city now to call home.”

Sapnap shuffles on the spot, looking bashful. “I hope you like it, Dream.”

Dream opens his mouth to answer, rivulets of tears streaked across his face.

He does not get a chance to, because at that moment, an aftershock rips through Gallery Plaza. The ground beneath them begins to sink. People are running and screaming, headed for solid ground as the earth collapses.

It is then that Wilbur sees it.

Five years ago, Dream had tumbled into the darkest abyss in those ruins.

And now, in the present, Dream is falling, an arm outstretched, mouth agape.

Wilbur promised himself that he would never let any of his friends go through that. Ever. He made a mistake five years ago.

He is not going to make the same one again.

Wilbur hisses as his fingers close around Dream’s wrist. Dream, who dangles limply by this one arm.

“Give…” Wilbur is determined not to let history repeat itself. He will not lose Dream. Not now. Not when they have just got him back. “Give me your other hand, Dream!”

Dream stares at the blackness below. There is no river to catch him this time. If Dream falls, he will die for real.

However, Dream does not respond to Wilbur’s plea.

“Why are you saving someone like me?” Dream chokes out. “I tried to kill everyone in this town, Wilbur. I called you guys traitors and…all the shit I tried to do…”

“We can talk about it later you bastard!” Wilbur clenches his teeth. “Now give me your other hand!”

Dream is beginning to slip, and yet he makes no move to accept the help.

An image flashes across Wilbur’s mind. Of Dream in his teenage years, plummeting to the bottom of the ravine, Mask clutched tightly as he descended.

No, no, no, no, no!

At that moment, when Wilbur thought he was going to lose Dream for good this time, a second hand grasps his arm. Dream lifts his head at the surprise.

“Sapnap?”

Sapnap grunts at the weight. “You sure…You’re heavier than I last remembered, Dream!”

With an insane amount of effort from Wilbur and Sapnap, they manage to drag Dream up from the pits of hell. The three of them are left panting and exhausted on the rough asphalt of the road.

“Never…” Sapnap puffs. “Never do that again.”

Wilbur watches as George runs up to the two of them, enveloping Dream in a hug as Sapnap watches on. Wilbur picks himself up, glancing over to the two figures waiting for them on flat ground, one with his energetic waves, and the other greeting him with a relieved smile.

Monte d’Or was one of the most miraculous cities that Wilbur has ever had the pleasure of visiting. A city wrapped in hope and despair, in tragedy and love, in passion and belief.

Of three friends whose unwavering trust brought Monte d’Or into being.

*

_[Sapnap](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlZXAY7ES3s) bawls his eyes out, a hand against the cheek where the head maid had slapped him. She continues to reprimand him, her voice getting more and more furious, more and more infuriated as he cries._

_“_ _What were you thinking, playing with Master Dream_ _’_ _s toy?_ _”_ _The head maid grills._ _“_ _Know your place, you-_ _”_

_“_ _Is there_ _…_ _a problem?_ _”_

_Sapnap lifts his head, barely able to see through his teary eyes. A small figure stands in the doorway, head tilted._

_“_ _M-Master Dream!_ _”_ _The head maid holds the blue robot out to him, the one that Sapnap merely wanted to touch. It had been the latest model, after all._ _“_ _I apologize for the noise. It_ _’_ _s just-_ _”_

_“_ _Why_ _’_ _d you take Sapnap_ _’_ _s toy away?_ _”_ _Dream says. The respect he demands is amazing, even for a seven-year-old._

_“_ _I believe you are mistaken, Master Dream. This is_ your _toy._ _”_

_“_ _Well, it_ _’_ _s Sapnap_ _’_ _s now,_ _”_ _Dream says, snatching the toy from her hands and pressing it into Sapnap_ _’_ _s. Sapnap stares at the blue robot, shiny and brand new._ _“_ _Now, please leave the room. I_ _’_ _d like some privacy._ _”_

_“_ _Of course!_ _”_ _The head maid hurries out of the room, and Dream pushes the door close, locking it with a click of the knob._

_Sapnap sniffles, fingers still tight around the robot._

_“_ _You okay? That looks painful,_ _”_ _Dream says, poking at the spot where the maid_ _’_ _s handprint must be visible. Sapnap flinches at the sting. Dream frowns._

_“_ _Here_ _’_ _s your_ _…_ _your toy back._ _”_ _Sapnap does his best to keep his voice steady, but Dream shakes his head._

_“_ _I gave you that toy,_ _”_ _Dream says._ _“_ _It_ _’_ _s yours now._ _”_

_“_ _Are you sure?_ _”_

_“_ _Yeah,_ _”_ _Dream says._ _“_ _I have too many toys anyway._ _”_ _His eyes sparkle as he jerks his chin at the bookshelf._ _“_ _Wanna read about the Azran with me, Sapnap?_ _”_

_Sapnap nods. It is always captivating to see Dream in his element, with his overwhelming interest in the relics of ages past, particularly the Azran._

_That day, Dream taught him something important. A lesson he would never forget, not even sixteen years into the future._

*

[“This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iF26u4S6Ryo) is goodbye, huh?”

Wilbur waves to George, Dream and Sapnap at the edge of Monte d’Or, prepared to head back to London.

“It is.” Wilbur sits himself in behind the wheel, and Puffy rides shotgun. Meanwhile, Tommy is already fast asleep, snoring away in the seat behind them.

They leave the city of Monte d’Or behind, cruising along the road of the featureless desert. Cacti and tumbleweed pass them by, air conditioning at full blast as the sun beats down on them.

“What kind of adventure are we going on next, Wilbur?” Puffy asks.

Wilbur keeps one hand on the wheel. “I don’t know, Puffy, but I’m sure it’ll be as fantastic as the ones we’ve had the joy of experiencing.”

Puffy leans back against her seat, interested in getting some shut-eye as well. She mulls over the wandering thoughts in her head. In Misthallery, they had discovered the Golden Garden, left behind by the Azrans. In the ground below Monte d’Or, they had uncovered the ancient ruins of Akbadain, also built by the Azrans.

She had, also, read about the city of Ambrosia, an abandoned city of song. It had been one of the many marvels of the Azran as well.

The Azran…the mysterious race with intelligence and sophistication leagues beyond their understanding. A storm is brewing – Puffy can feel it – and she knows it will not be pretty.

*

[“Wow.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrORfWYb3FM&)

Phil stares at the circular corridors, spiralling down into the earth below. Another entrance to the Akbadain Ruins, a few kilometres from the glamorous city of Monte d’Or. He glances up at Techno.

“What do you mean, ‘wow’?”

“It’s just…you have very good map-reading abilities, Phil.”

Phil chortles. “Years of experience, my friend.”

“We have found the three of the major Azran landmarks,” Techno says. “Very soon, we will have completed our objective.”

Phil nods. “Very soon.”

“Now, we must secure this area before…” Techno is interrupted by the disrupting sounds of tanks and heavy machinery rolling against the desert dunes. Phil turns at the sound, holding his hat down at the blustering humid breeze.

[Infringing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_POieuWHVY) upon their territory is none other than a slew of military tanks and copters, chopping blades whipping up a draft. Techno tenses.

Before long, they are surrounded by men in uniforms, pointing guns to their faces. The choppers descend and the tanks surround the spiralling chamber.

They are severely outnumbered. Phil glances at Techno. What is the plan now?

“Stand your ground.”

A man emerges, flanked by two burly men with rifles, from the ranks of grunts. This man’s eyes are hidden by his shades. He is dressed in formal wear, a blue blazer thrown over a red button-down. Phil has never seen this man in his life, but the aura he radiates is one of danger.

“It’s time for you to leave,” the man says, folding his arms. “This place belongs to Targent now.”

“I won’t let you have it,” Techno says, a rare simmering rage in his voice. “We found this by our own efforts. You come storming in here trying to claim this place for yourself!”

“Unnecessary details.” The man snorts. He raises a hand. “You have three seconds to go before we gun you down.”

Techno grits his teeth.

“Techno, I think we should leave,” Phil says. “We are not-”

“Mark my words, Leon,” Techno snaps. “I will be back, and you will regret having crossed my path.”

The man, Leon, cackles. “What wishful thinking.”

“Phil,” Techno says. “Get us out of here.”

Phil reaches into his jacket and retrieves a rotund object. “As you wish.”

As soon as the bomb hits the ground, white smoke envelopes the area, obscuring the view of the soldiers. As soon as the white smoke clears, however, neither Techno nor Phil remain.

They are already back on the Bostonius, the zeppelin zipping across the cloudless skies of Foolish Desert.

“Well, that was a bust,” Phil says, manoeuvring the zeppelin back towards London.

Techno grunts. Seems like he is taking his defeat harder than Phil expected. Oh well, their lives are worth more than whatever angst Techno has got going on right now anyway.

There is still one last place they have to go. If they can secure this one before Targent, then they would surely be the winners in this one-sided war of theirs.

For Techno’s sake, Phil cannot fail here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO Puzzles in this Chapter!


	11. Puzzle Solutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> puzzle solutions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written in line with the chapter numbers! Can press Ctrl+F, type puzzle title to find it quicker!

Chapter 2: 

Where's Mum?: 

The little girl's mother is B. By process of elimination: 

A does not have red hair, so we can eliminate A immediately. C is a man, so we can eliminate C from the get-go as well. D's purse is blue, so it cannot be D either. While E complains that that blue bag is not hers, the bag depicts a bear, which is the correct pattern. Therefore, we can assume that E is not the girl's mother since she does not carry a bag with the bear pattern. That leaves us with A and B. 

Now, we must swap the bags around. B's current bag must belong to E, since it's the only bag that does not have a bear pattern on it. E's bag must go to D, since it's the only other blue bag in the mix. Therefore, D's bag must go to B. Since we know that the girl's mother has red hair and that she carries a pink bag with a bear on it, then B must be the girl's mother.

Ancient Arti-Facts: 

This is an Einstein's Riddle.

Answer: A found a sword made of blue-tinged metal at 200m. B found a doll made of wood at 150m. C found a pot made of sandy clay at 100m. D found a coin made of stone at 50m. 

We already know that A found something at 200m, B found a doll, and D found something made of stone. Making a table and sticking information under each person would be an easier way to tackle this problem. Let's go over the clues one by one: 

1\. **The doll is made of wood.** Therefore, we can stick that information right under B, since B found a doll.   
2\. **B dug 100m deeper than D and found something at 150m deep.** From this, we know that B found something at 150m and D found something at 50m.   
3. **An item made of blue-tinged metal was found deeper than the wooden one.** We know that B found something wooden at 150m deep. The only other deeper depth is 200m, which was found by A. Therefore, we can conclude that A found something made of blue-tinged metal.  
4\. **The pot is made of sandy clay.** We know that A cannot be the person who found the pot, since the pot is not made of blue-tinged metal. Neither did D for the same reason. B found a doll, so we can strike that out as well. Hence, it must be C who found the pot. And we also know now that the pot is made of sandy clay so we can stick that under C too.  
5\. **The coin was found in a shallower place than the sword**. The only person we've not yet identified what they've found is D. Therefore, D must have found the coin at 50m, and A must have been the one who found the sword. 

Wandering Watches: 

By subtracting/adding time to the various times as shown on the watches, we should end up with the same time on each watch. What I did was to add the most time (20mins) to the watch that shows the earliest timing. I.e. I add 20mins to the person whose watch shows 1:05. I would end up with 1:25. Then I added 10mins to the watch that shows 1:15 and I also end up with 1:25. 

The trick here is to be aware that all the watches should end up with the same time. Hence, the answer is 1:25.

Days of Rest: 

Since we know that A does not want to close on Sunday, and we know that no one wants to rest on Saturday, then A should be closing on a Saturday. And by C's statement, C will close on a Friday. On that note, we can see that B must close on Tuesday. Then G must close on Sunday. D must then close on Monday and finally, F on Wednesday. From there, we can deduce that E must close on Thursday. 

Therefore: Monday (D), Tuesday (B), Wednesday (F), Thursday (E), Friday (C), Saturday (A), Sunday (G)

Chapter 3: 

That's Juicy!:

I'm sure there's a simpler way to do this but this is how I did it. It's a simple question of algebra. Let L = Large, M = Medium and S = Small. We shall now derive the equations from the given information: 

1L + 3M + 3S = 18   
2L + 6S = 18  
4M + 6S = 18

From here, we notice that 2L = 18 - 6S, and so 1L = 9 - 3S. We also now see that 4M = 18 - 6S, so 1M = 9/2 - 3/2S (sorry if this is a bit confusing that i'm bringing improper fractions into this). We shall now plug these values into the first equation:

9 - 3S + 3(9/2 - 3/2S) + 3S = 18  
\- 3S + 27/2 - 9/2S + 3S = 9  
9S = 9  
S = 1

Now that we know that S = 1, then we can plug this value into the first two equations: 

1L = 9 - 3(1)   
1L = 6

and 

1M = 9/2 - 3/2(1)   
1M = 3 

Therefore, L = 6, M = 3 and S = 1

Nine Red Bricks: 

Well, we _could_ just lift them all up one by one, but that would be really inefficient. Okay, think about it as LT. Surge's Gym's puzzle, but with logic. 

We know that the bricks are in one line, and that the two bricks are beside each other. The man can start off by lifting bricks 2, 4 and 6, and if any of them are heavier, then he would know that one of the neighbouring bricks is also the heavier one. If so, he can lift one other brick, and if that is not the brick that is heavier, then it must be the other one. 

In the case that the bricks 2, 4 and 6 are not the heavier ones, then he can lift 9. If 9 is heavier, then we'd know that 8 is the other heavy one. If 9 isn't heavier, then it must be 7 and 8. 

Chapter 4: 

Tenth-Round Ace

If A won 3-2 when A drew wood and A also won 3-2 when B drew wood, then player A must be the overall winner.

Guess Stars: 

Flip the caps up an odd number of times, then the number of caps facing up will be even and vice versa. Since 25 is an odd number and that there are two caps facing up already, then the one covered by his hand must face down. 

Puzzle Battle vs Masked Gentleman: 

The Equine Miracle: 

1) "The time of day."   
2) "Their eyes were closed."  
3) "The nearby alleyways."

The Painting Miracle: 

1) "Were those paintings from a common source?"  
2) "Were those paintings strangely-packaged."  
3) "When the paintings are to be displayed?"  
4) "Vanishing paint."

The Fire Miracle: 

1) "Were they friends with each other?"  
2) "Any of the victims go up on stage?"   
3) "Other clothes later on?" 

King Arthur's Sword: 

Floor Seats:

She was sitting in Row 6, Seat 4! 

Let's look at all her statements in detail: 

1) She was in the middle of a group of 5. Therefore, we can eliminate seats 1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 11, 12 from the first 2 rows of seats. We can also eliminate 1, 2, 6, 7, 8, 9, 13, 14 seats from the middle two rows and 1, 2, 7, 8, 15, 16 seats from the remaining rows.   
2) She was stuck behind someone in a tall hat. So she cannot be sitting in the first row.   
3) There were four seats between her and the aisle to her right. We can deduce that she cannot be sitting in rows 1 nor 2, since she would have to be sitting in seats 2 or 8. Therefore, she has to be sitting in rows 3 - 6. In rows 3 and 4, she has to sit at seats 3 or 10, and in rows 5 - 6, she has to sit at seats 4 or 12.   
4) She noticed the seat number and row number were 2 apart. In row 3 nor 4, neither 3 nor 10 is two apart from the row number. There, we notice that in row 6, she may sit at seat 4, so...that's the answer.

Chapter 5: 

Clear Cut Contrasts: 

They just have to tap the square that forms the border of the grid. 

Chapter 6: 

A Muddy Mess: 

There may be many footprints before the bridge, but there are actually only 2 footprints on the bridge itself, so only two people crossed the bridge.

Trip to the Hospital: 

Settle the Score:

Solution: A = 9, B = 7, C = 5 and D = 4. 

Again, this can be solved with algebra. 

A + B + C + D = 25   
2A + 2D = 26   
1B + 3C = 22 

So, we can see from the third equation that B = 22 - 3C, and from the second equation, that A + D = 13. We can plug these two into the first equation to give us this: 

(A + D) + B + C = 25  
13 + 22 - 3C + C = 25  
-2C = -10   
C = 10 

From here, we can deduce that B = 22 - 3(5) = 7. 

Now, we notice that A + D = 13. We also know that the lowest value is 1 and the highest value is 9 since the points are single digits. A MUST be either 8 or 9, because we know that the nearer the bulls-eye, the higher the score, and we know that A is the bulls-eye instead of D because C has a lower score than B. If A is 8, then D would have to be 5. However, C is already 5. Hence, A must be 9, and D, 4.

Chapter 7: 

The Last Door: 

This is easy when you realize that the symbols on the door refers to the borders of the correct tiles.

Chapter 8: 

Puzzle Battle vs Mordy: 

How Wilbur did the first round was literally just to swap the chips. 

He swapped 6 with 8, then 1 with 6, then 5 with 3 and then 7 with 5. 

The second round is the real magic. 

What Wilbur did was to use the chip 7 to push the chips 5 and 3 downwards. He then used the chip 4 to push the chips 9 and 2 upwards. 

Bite of Bygone Days: 

The only fish with the number of teeth that matches that of the fossil is A. 

Jewels to the Lock: 

All arrows are pointing to another arrow except one. That is the one you need to turn! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this one! i just started playing azran legacy again so im gonna need some time before the next installment comes out...
> 
> thinking of using tales of the smp characters for npcs in the next one...


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